Within the Walls of Arkham Asylum
by Jess Anne Rose
Summary: Doctor Harleen Quinzel is a young intern at Arkham Asylum who dreams of becoming a respected psychologist, and she's well on her way there…that is until she meets her new patient. Harleen is thrown into a world of confusion, madness, lust, and love…all at the hands of Gotham's very own Clown Prince of Crime.
1. Chapter 1: How it Began

**Authors note:** This is the first fanfic I've ever actually published, and I'm super nervous about it, but honestly I'm so in love with the Joker and Harley that I couldn't not write it. I hope someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There's definitely more to come... I know this chapter was super short and didn't give anyone much, but I have to set up the story before I can get into the fun stuff (wink* wink*)... anyway I would love some feedback.

* * *

"We can't just keep sending new doctors in every time he drives the last over the edge Joan." Sighed one of the higher ups that Harleen constantly struggle to remember the name of; to be fair, Harleen reasoned, most of the Doctors in the drab Asylum held the same lifeless demeanor that consequently turned them into the lackluster mass of smart-ass intellects that Harleen loved to hate. However, somewhere along the line of Harleen's very brief employment at Arkham Asylum she had mentally dubbed him Doctor Piggy: not only because his remarkably round face and small ears resembled a pig, but because in a addition, he had a maddening habit of snorting when he inhaled, even after making the simplest of assertions.

"Well what do you suggest we do then Doctor Clarke? Leave him in his cell to rot?" Joan Leland shot back, and Harleen could sense the heat behind her glare, even without looking up from her notepad. When she did raise her eyes to glance at the other Doctor she was shocked to see his pig head subtly nodding, confirming that yes, that was exactly the kind of thing he was suggesting. "Look all I'm saying is I'm not giving authorization for anymore of my physicians to be given his case. I mean Joan come on, this is already the fifth one! And it's only been three months!" He managed to snort out, more eloquently than Harleen had previously thought him capable of.

Joan Leland narrowed her eyes, clearly deep in thought. Harleen looked up from the notes she had been furiously scribbling down throughout the meeting, and saw several of the other Doctors staring at Leland in a restless manner, shifting somewhat in their cold metal chairs.

"Let's just give him one more shot." Leland finally stated, and the other Doctors groaned. "Listen carefully," she spoke in a stern voice, glancing around at each doctor in the room "Doctor Arkham trusts each of us in choosing the course best fit for our patients, and no where did we agree to simply give up when a patient proves to be more difficult than the usual. Calling it quits is not an option, and if _any_ of you think it is… well than you damn well don't belong at a place like Arkham." Leland spoke out sounding more like a disappointed parent than a Doctor talking with her peers, however, some of the other Doctors in the room reluctantly showed their agreement to her assertion through slow head nods.

"Well it has to be one of yours." One of the more skeptical Doctor's sternly stated.

"How about Doctor Johnson… he's got a good head about him" called out another Physician.

"No, he's far too busy treating Harvey Dent to take on another high profile patient." Leland rejected the notion, and then tilted her head, glancing around the room waiting for the next suggestion.

Soon several of the other doctors in the room began suggesting other physicians under Leland's authority, but each was rejected for one reason or another.

Harleen, who had remained silent throughout the duration of the conference, suddenly had a realization: this was her chance to finally prove herself within the stark, white halls of Arkham, a golden opportunity to at long last show that she wanted to be more than Leland's personal secretary.

Harleen made point to clear her throat in a sad attempt to be heard over the sudden chaos of the conference room; not all too surprising, her efforts were futile as the doctors continued to shout over one another, paying the young blonde no attention. "Doctor Leland?" She tried, but there was no response. "Doctor Leland?" She said a bit louder, and was still not acknowledged. "Doctor Leland?!" She finally said it a voice that broke out over the noise of the conference room. As each head turned towards her, Harleen felt a blush dance across her pale cheeks.

"What is it Doctor Quinzel?" Leland spoke in a surprised voice, she had completely forgotten that Harleen was even there.

Harleen for her part swallowed harshly and tried to push her nerves down. "I was thinking…" She stole a quick glance around the conference room, trailing off slightly as her pale blue eyes made contact with several of the other doctors quizzical gaze.

"Yes?" Doctor Leland urged her on, trying not to let any impatience slip into her tired voice.

 _'No time like the present'_ Harleen sighed to herself before quickly saying "I was thinking perhaps I could take on his case." She was cautious to avoid saying _his_ name, choosing to omit it like the previous Doctors had.

"You?" Leland said in a doubtful tone.

"Yes me." Harleen replied feeling frustrated with the lack of confidence she was greeted with by her colleague.

Joan Leland sat back in her silver chair and studied the blonde for several long seconds. "Alright Quinzel, Iguess we'll give it a go." she finally said, surprising everyone in the room, Harleen included.

"Let's see how long you can last with the Joker as your patient."

* * *

As the other doctors were clearing out of the conference room some gave Harleen looks of piety, some looked deeply concerned, and the remainder looked at Harleen with what she could only guess was doubt. Doctor Piggy, for his part, had the audacity to leaned in and whisper in a harsh snort "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." Then he abruptly brushed past her and retreated out the doors of the conference room in a manner that was not at all graceful, or Harleen thought dignified. _'Was that his sad way of expressing concern for her current predicament, or some resentful attempt at scaring her out of her decision?'_ Before Harleen had a chance to debate the pros and cons of it all Doctor Leland called out to her. "Doctor Quinzel, stop by my office at the end of the day, so I can brief you on his file."

"Alright." Harleen bite her cheek hard enough to draw blood, while not letting her original answer of okie dokie slip out from between her pink lips. Quickly, she almost skipped out of the conference room, before remembering where she was, and how she was expected to act in such a place. Solemn, professional, boring, she almost groaned.

Eventually, Harleen pacified her excitement and continued on with her routinely scheduled day. She had been working at Arkham Asylum for only two short months and already was much further along than the other interns who had began with her. Letting a smile escape her lips she almost laughed as she thought about how she was about to make them all the more envious of her. _'Who wouldn't be jealous?'_ She had just landed herself a place evaluating the most notorious criminal in Gotham and she hadn't even had to beg for it. She desperately tried to sit still and take notes for the Doctor analyzing one of the newest patients, but her mind kept wandering elsewhere. All she did was simply ask for the case and Leland had obliged, which made it all the more sweeter because it showed that she trusted her abilities. Harleen continued on her day with an excitement that she hadn't felt in years.

* * *

Meanwhile, deep in the belly of Arkham Asylum a green haired psychopath sat musing over the suicide of his latest Doctor. _'What a pity, this one had seemed stronger than the last…how many was it? Five.'_ A dark laugh emitted from the man as he adjusted his arms in his tightly bound strait jacket.

"Quiet down in there!" Came a guards gruff voice. "Or maybe you'll just have to be kept in confinement and miss your next session." He threatened.

A sinfully dark voice oozed out of the completely dark cell. "So they're sending another Doctor for me to fuck up?" The voice broke into a fit of giggles before growling out "ahh Arkham always wanting to lavish little old me in all of its poorly equipped resources". Than the voice erupted into more laughter that grated against the otherwise silent hallways of Arkham Asylum. The guard shivered uncomfortably, and remained quite, wishing to be far away from the madman in the cell.


	2. Chapter 2: The file

_**Authors note:**_ _I didn't really expect to update so quickly but I have a bunch of random pieces of the story written here and there and it's getting me really excited to get past all the boring introduction details and into Harleen meeting the Joker. Trust me, I can't keep these two apart for long. I also want to make it crystal clear that my version of Harley will not be a victim in this story, I absolutly hate when people do that because it totally subtracts from who she is as a character… and after all it really does take two to tango, and you can't do that with a weak, helpless version of Harley._

* * *

Harleen practically skipped into Doctor Leland's office by the end of the day. Normally, after a day such as today Harleen would be trudging out of the Asylum with her shoulders sagging and her heels dragging. Several of her patients had been uncooperative during their therapy sessions, which wasn't all that surprising. Another, had tried to kick her multiple times under the table, convinced nonexistent hands were pulling at his legs; although she shouldn't have expected much different from a paranoid schizophrenic. Moreover, an unprecedented amount of her drone-like colleagues seemed to believe it was _her_ job to keep up with the notes of _their_ sessions. Harleen shook her head quickly, refusing to let her good mood falter for the slightest of second.

Pushing the heavy, metal door open Harleen surveyed her surroundings: the rather large room had dark wood floors and walls that were painted a deep olive green with minimal art work adorning them. Harleen always found the theme of Leland's office much more captivating than the other doctor's brightly colored rooms. In fact, she often found those rooms to be one of the strangest aspects of the entire Asylum, which considering the circumstances of the place was saying a lot. A large fire place burned at the corner of the room; Harleen recognized it as a sad attempt to keep the ever present chill of the Asylum at bay, however, she could feel the cold air leaking in through the giant windows located on the east side of the room. Harleen often liked to joke with herself that the cold came from a different sources: that it oozed up from underneath the gloomy Asylum, escaping from the mouths of Gotham's most menacing mentally deranged that were housed far, far below. Almost, snorting at the thought, Harleen knocked sharply on the metal door before proceeding into the office.

"Hello Doctor Leland." She said in a singsong voice.

"Quinzel? What's got you so excited?" Leland said in a troubled voice.

"Nothing in particular." Harleen answered back, quelling her excitement for the moment as she walked further into the cabin esque-room.

Leland held back from rolling her eyes at the bubbly blonde, she hadn't seen Harleen in such high spirits before. She had always assumed the girl wouldn't last in a place like Arkham, that she would end up fleeing its dreary halls as soon as her internship was over. So far, however, she was stuck with the perky young blonde. Sitting in her plush office chair, Leland eventually tossed a small vanilla file towards Harleen; the top of it was marked with a crimson stamp, indicating the level of mental health, next to that was a yellow stamp, that meant the patient was also a high security threat. "You sure about this Harleen?" Joan spoke, hoping the use of Harleen's first name would make her understand the serious nature of what she was about to begin.

"Of course." Harleen reply without any hesitation.

"Alright." Leland sighed clearly still not convinced that Harleen was the person for the job, but she obviously had little control over it all now. "This is his file, study it closely…I'm aware there isn't much there. However, I would like to continue his sessions as soon as possible."

"I'll be ready by tomorrow morning." Harleen reply with the utmost confidence.

"Yeah, don't get carried away. Tell me that tomorrow morning and I'll consider agreeing to it. There's a lot that has to be done before I'll even consider letting you begin your sessions with him." Leland said, still slightly put off by Harleen's evident excitement. ' _Poor kid doesn't even know what she's getting herself into'_ Joan mused ' _She'll be lucky to even last a week… hell, I'll be surprised if she even still wants his case after seeing his file'._

"Certainly." Harleen answered in a stern voice. "Have a wonderful evening Doctor Leland." She stated before grabbing the small file off of the desk and strolling out of the large office.

"Good night Doctor Quinzel." Came the sharp reply.

Harleen hurried to gather her belongings from her own stark office. Quickly, her heeled feet carried her outside towards her cherry red convertible. It had been a graduation present to herself and an impulse buy, which was not normal behavior for the overly cautious Harleen Quinzel; however, when she had seen it, she knew she had to have it. ' _Even if Gotham always seemed to be too cold and damp to ride with the top down_ ' she sighed bitterly.

* * *

Once she was home Harleen stripped out of her simple work clothes and pulled on an oversized t-shirt, pairing it with a pair of thick knitted socks that went up to her knees. Quickly, brewing some coffee Harleen settled into a her stiff kitchen chair and placed the file before her. Unexpectedly, she found herself nervous ' _just open the damn thing'_ she pressured, before she hesitantly unceiled the thin vanilla folder.

She was immediately taken back by the first paper placed within its confinements: it was an image of the last Doctor to have worked on _his_ case, but with a rope around the Doctor's thick neck, and he was hanging from his office's ceiling fan. Harleen knew the image should scare her, or even repulse her, yet she found herself captivated by the dark circles that were gathered under the doctor's closed eyes and the purple tinge on his unnaturally pale face. His lifeless body contrasting with the lively colors of the office space. Harleen flipped through the file finding information on the other four losses of her patient's Physicians. Bullet wound to the head… drug overdose… deemed clinically insane…building jumper… and of course death by asphyxiation. Much to Harleen's irritation she found that the file contained more information on the past physicians than the patient himself. All she really seemed to learn was that he was clinically insane, presumably between the age of 30 and 35, and had been in and out of Arkham Asylum for the past several years, always finding some way of escape. ' _Is this Joan's pathetic attempt to scare me away from this case?'_ Harleen suddenly found herself wondering as she continued to stare at the images from the file for longer than was either necessary or normal.

Rolling her blue eyes and stretching out her pale legs, Harleen yawned and ultimately became aware of just how tired she actually was. The excitement she had felt all day had pushed her to working extra hard, mostly as a lousy excuse to keep her overactive mind off of her newest patient. She just wanted to be the one to break through _his_ cloudy mind and discover what made a man like that tick. Harleen sighed as she lounged back in her chair, beginning to imagine the future opportunities she would be offered if she could decipher the mind of Gotham's most feared criminal.

Suddenly, she was pulled out of her daydream by the buzzing of her phone. Swiping to answer, she held the phone to her ear. "Hello?" She asked in a clouded voice.

"Harleen! Hey, it's me, Matt!" Came the enthusiastic response.

 _'Shit.'_ Harleen screamed in her head. "Oh hi Matt." She answered in a voice that she hoped came off as excited.

She had gone on a first date with him only two nights ago and she had to admit, she hadn't had an awful time, but suddenly she found herself wishing he hadn't bothered to call her ever again.

"Hi!" He said again and she rolled her eyes. ' _Had he been this slow on their date?'_ She questioned herself.

"Umm, what do you need Matt?" She asked, trying to not let any annoyance slip into her tone.

"Oh sorry…I was just calling to see if we could maybe set up another date for later this week?" He asked sounding hopeful, and even a bit too cocky for Harleen's liking.

She paused for a long moment. ' _Matt was a nice guy? Why was she feeling so panicked about the idea of a second date? …because it'll lead to more.''_ Some voice deep in her head stated. Harleen was startled, after all wasn't that what she wanted? To find the perfect guy, to settle down with him and have the picture perfect family she never had the chance to be apart of, to one day inevitably be expected to drop her career to raise their _perfect_ children and be the _perfect_ doting wife? Harleen felt herself shudder at the idea of having what she had always assumed she wanted most.

"Uhh actually Matt I don't know if that's the best idea…" She trailed off for a second realizing what she was saying. "It's just that they finally gave me a huge case at work, and I mean it's an important one Matt." She said getting excited. "And I just really need to invest my time into that…into work right now." She said hoping he followed her ramble.

"So no?" He asked sounding distraught.

Harleen sighed, still not completely understanding her decision, but she felt panic rising in her throat every time she thought about what her perfect life could be with him. "Right now I just don't think it's in the cards Matt."

"Whatever." He ground out before hanging up, his ego clearly damaged.

' _Glad we ditched him.'_ The same voice from before surfaced and Harleen shivered slightly before deciding it was late and she desperately need some sleep.

* * *

 _ **Authors note:** I know, I know, it's still a really short chapter, but don't worry I'm getting there. I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway and I would love a review! _


	3. Chapter 3: Prove Yourself

_**Author's note** : Hey guys! First and foremost I wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has read my story so far, and I especially appreciate all the people who have taken the time to write a review: you're all so nice and you have no idea how much it means to me. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

Harleen was up with the sun the following morning, which wasn't actually all that convenient considering Arkham didn't open it's gates until eight. Creeping out of her bed, Harleen began making herself some breakfast, first and foremost heading for the coffee pot. Once she was seated in the same chair as the night prior she began flipping through her minimal pile of mail, still somewhat put off by the pathetically thin stake. Her mind soon began to wander back in time...after having received her PhD five months ago, Harleen had packed up everything she owned in a matter of a single night, with little idea for where she was headed, just knowing that she needed to get out of Brooklyn. In what she had hoped was an inconspicuous manner, she had already begun pulling away from her dwindling group of friends, with the intention of leaving as soon as she got the chance. She didn't need anyone trying to keep her in a place she didn't belong. New York held nothing but heartache for her, and if leaving it would heal the hole in her chest, than so be it. However, at this current moment Harleen was having a difficult time deciphering whether or not she was disappointed that all the letters in the minuscule pile were bills and such, as opposed to, perhaps, a letter from a friend. She knew it was practically impossible because she hadn't given anyone her new address, and that she had only left them with the promise that she would call them when she settled down. Apparently though, a small part of her kept hoping someone would show up. _'Come on Harleen'_ She sighed. ' _You have to let it go...there was nothing left for you there.'_

Shortly after leaving New York Harleen had moved to Gotham, one of the most corrupt cities in the entire goddamn country. Most people her age would have shied away from such a grim place, but Harleen saw some kind of twisted golden light lurking around each darkened corner of the crime filled streets. After all, some of the world's most menacing psychopaths were produced in those very streets. Additionally, Harleen had practically sworn off love of any kind one drunk and lonely night leading up to her move to Gotham; however, she had been on several dates since her arrival. Beginning with some guy she had met in one of the city's numerous bars, followed promptly by a two month fling with Bruce Wayne. They had met at some humdrum social function, that she had only been invited to because of her notable success in school. Of course, she had initially been more than moderately flattered by his blatant interest in her, and they quickly struck up a courtship of sorts. Eventually though, it fizzled as Harleen tired of being Bruce Wayne's arm candy. She hadn't forced herself through six grueling years of school to be second best to anyone. Her and Bruce had parted on good terms, he even understood her reluctance at continuing their dalliance, and had even pushed her towards getting the internship at Arkham. Harleen rolled her eyes, she tended to have a difficult time holding onto relationships, despite being so sure of what she wanted from them. Ultimately, she blamed it on her past. _'God, it's too fucking early to be thinking like this.'_ Harleen groaned before abruptly pushing out of her chair, and heading to the shower.

* * *

Harleen had spent nearly 30 minutes under the water, letting her skin prune. Normally, she would have hated to spend her time so impractically, but after glancing at the clock she was grateful, between the shower and her previous daydreaming she had managed to kill enough time for her to be able to leave for Arkham.

When she arrived at the Asylum the guards greeted her kindly, but she could feel the places their vile eyes wandered to on her body. "Try to get your jaws off the floor boys, wouldn't want flies to nest." She tossed out smacking on some gum, and flipping her blonde hair in annoyance. She smirked when she saw some of the guards jostle the shoulders of each other in an attempt to look more honorable than the other. _'Idiots.'_

Harleen's heels clicked loudly on the white tile floors of Arkham as she dropped off her jacket and briefcase before heading towards Doctor Leland's office. Just as her knuckles were about to make contact with the metal door it swung open, revealing Joan Leland. "Doctor Quinzel!" She jumped "You startled me, I was just on my way to grab some coffee...walk with me?" She offered.

They began with the predictable: asking polite questions on how each of their evenings had been, although Harleen could sense that Leland could care less how she'd spent the previous night… she was just waiting for Harleen to give some bullshit excuse on why she wouldn't be able to take the case. Harleen smirked, 'not gonna happen Joan'.

Once they had received their coffees Leland settled against the kitchen's counter, getting comfortable. "So… did you get the chance to look over the file?"

Harleen took a long sip of her coffee, purposely drawing out the moment. _'What can she say? She had a fondness for the dramatics'._ After swallowing and glancing up from her cup she nodded, confirming that she had indeed read the file.

"Good." Leland said, trying to read the expression on the young blondes face. "You are taking his case then?"

"Of course." Harleen finally spoke. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, after seeing Leland's eyes give her a quick up and down glance.

"You got family Doctor Quinzel?" She tossed out, ignoring Harleen's question altogether.

"I don't see why that matters." Harleen spoke, suddenly turning defensive.

"A boyfriend...anyone?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Harleen sighed trying not to sound annoyed.

"I'm just trying to figure out your angle Doctor Quinzel. I mean, you saw the file, you're young, fresh out of school, and obviously smart enough to land yourself an internship at one of the toughest Psychiatric hospitals in the country, yet you're not even fazed by the things you saw in that file. I'm just surprised this is how you decide to break out of your internship." Leland said, placing her coffee to the side.

"Well, I've always had an attraction to extreme personalities." She offered, surprised with how true this statement actually was, though the people with them tended to find her.

"I'll warn you right now, he's a hardcore psychotic, and if you're thinking of cashing in on him by writing a tell-all book, think again." Joan finally offered up what she had been speculating about Harleen all along. _'He'll eat a novice like her for breakfast if she's not careful'_ Leland thought.

Harleen, for her part, was taken aback by Joan's accusation. _'How could she think so little of me?'_ Was all she found herself wondering. _'Why was it that everyone always seemed to think the worst of one another?'_

"You're kidding right?" She huffed as Leland sat, still silently judging her. "I got into psychology because I've felt things a person shouldn't have to feel. Everyone here seems to believe that because I'm young I'm incapable, well that's not true. I'm here because I worked my ass off in school, graduated the best in my class, and want to help cure even the sickest of individuals. I'm insulted that you would even imply such a thing about me when you haven't even taken the time to get to know me. I'm here to help people, not extort their weaknesses." Harleen justified, satisfied with the guilt that flashed across Joan's face.

After a long, and slightly uncomfortable moment of silence Leland spoke up "Forgive me Doctor Quinzel, it was not my intention to insult your professionalism. I can see you obviously are here for the right reasons, and I will not stand in your way." She pushed herself off the counter and held out her hand as a peace offering, hesitantly Harleen shook it. "Let's head back to my office and we can start discussing the details of his case... and when you can begin your first session." Leland offered in a softer tone.

* * *

"Now, it's no coincidence Doctor Quinzel that all five of these doctors were lost in the last three months."

"I understand." Harleen replied.

"These doctors all went in with apt mental health and I watched as each of them digressed to a shell of their former self. "

"Doctor Leland, not to overstep your authority or overlook your concern, but...I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for this." Harleen said trying to conceal the panic she felt at the thought of losing this case simply because Leland didn't think she was mentally strong enough.

Leland studied Harleen hard for a long moment before sighing. "Alright Quinzel, we're going to start you with a mental evaluation. Each week you'll be expected to have one, so we can take note of any anomalies or changes." Or after any incidents Leland thought. "Our staffs mental stability trumps our patients." She said with sincerity.

Harleen wanted to roll her eyes, _'Perhaps, that's why no one seemed to get any better around here'._

"Additionally, you must mind what you say to him. He loves evidence of his own work so do not under any circumstances bring them up." Leland warned.

Harleen nodded eagerly.

"No go on and get to it!" Leland said in a tired voice watching as the petite blonde scurried out of her office and towards the evaluation rooms.

Despite Doctor Leland's previous insistence that Harleen begin sessions as soon as possible it took nearly three months to setup a session. During the time in between Harleen had continued working with her previous patients, and was pleased to see that, with Doctor Leland's insistence, she was no longer in charge of playing secretary for some of the other Doctors. In addition, she studied all his tricks and gimmicks through the limited notes they had on file of him. Countless nights, had been spent reading and rereading his previous Doctors notes that she had managed to get out of Leland. Joan had been relieved to discover that Harleen had taken several self defense class while she was in school, Harleen was careful to omit why she had been compelled to take them. She now felt sufficiently ready to begin treating the Clown Prince of Gotham.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** Ughh guys I don't know what happened I really wanted to include Harley and the Joker's first session in this chapter but it just felt like I was loading too much chapter… I'm really trying my best not to rush the story. I have a loose idea on how I want things to go, but if anyone has any ideas on something they'd like me to include in the therapy sessions I would be more than grateful for the input! Please follow and don't be afraid to let me know what you think of the story so far._


	4. Chapter 4: Names and Games

_**Author's note:** Hi guys! Sorry this chapter took a little longer… I'm really nervous how you'll receive it, but I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to everyone who's favorite, followed, and reviewed so far! It's really the thing that motivates me to keep writing so fast. Anyway, hope you like it!_

* * *

Light seemed to be obliterated when a person descended vertically into the confines of Arkham Asylum. The simple answer was because there were no windows, which even on the ground level floors allowed in barely enough sunshine to keep the place sufficiently lit. Another answer could be that the lighting system was decades past its sell by date: providing for a brief glimpse into the distant past of the bleak Asylum. Though, the guards that had the misfortune of being assigned to the high security area of the hospital had another theory. Some swore it was to remind the employees of Arkham how the place used to be, before the bright white walls, stark tile floors, and shiny metal doors: a reminder of Arkham's disturbing past. Others theorized that it was an attempt to scare the patient's back towards sanity and the comforting light of day. And then there were the superstitious guards, who believed the light was extinguished by the sick individuals housed beneath, in some eerie and unholy effort to make the place resemble what they looked like on the inside: dark… mysterious… dangerous.

This theory, was the Joker's personal favorite. He relished in any little thing that turned humanity upside down, that revealed exactly how much of a coward even the bravest of men were. He loved hearing the guards call out to one another as they descended the steep stairs, how they purposefully spoke louder in order to ward off the heavy blanket of silence that fell upon them. The Joker especially got off when the halfwits would approach his cell, not because they wanted to, but because they had to in order to make sure he hadn't escaped again. Whenever they approached he would keep silent until their faces were pressed against the thick glass, their eyes vainly searching for his form in the darkness, and then he would let out a laugh that would have them jumping back, bumping into one another, in a hopeless attempt to get far, far away from him.

The funniest part was when they convinced themselves that they were safe with the thick barrier of glass between him and them. He knew better, knew that the worst kind of pain wasn't always physical. And it was so damn easy to get in their simple little heads. Within a week of his stay at hotel Arkham he had managed to get three of the nine apes to quit, and the other six where running from every distorted shadow that creeped along the dingy hallways. Although, he was growing bored of playing around with such easy targets… he needed something more. Of course, he could effortlessly escape the Asylum, had already done so on several occasions, but something seemed to be keeping him here. Perhaps, it was simply because Doctor Arkham had yet to assign him a new plaything… maybe he just wanted to see how it all played out. He wasn't a man who believed in fate, he made his own, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what had kept him here quite so long this time around. However, he got the sense that he was soon going to find out.

* * *

The guards approached his glass bubble of solitude that day adorned in the the entirety of their coal colored uniforms. _'Bullet proof vest and all.'_ He mused, giggling as he watched them begin the tedious process of unbolting his metal door.

"You didn't have to get all dressed up just for little old me." The green haired devil smarmed as soon as the first guard stepped foot into his dimly lit cell.

"Quite clown." Barked the second guard who entered. This demand, only served to further the madman's laughter, turning it darker and somehow more threatening.

Despite being in identical uniforms and having the same overdone helmets concealing their gruff faces from view, each guard got the sense that the man before them could see right through it all, as if he could simply pick apart their brains and discover their greatest fears within seconds of laying his cutting emerald eyes upon them.

The largest guard made a swift but subtle hand movement, indicating for the other guards to get moving. Swiftly, the prisoner was shoved to the ground, while several of the guards took hold of his strait jacket and began forcefully dragging him towards the doors.

"Oh, I do adore when we play rough." The man teased as another group of guards flicked to the sides of the hallways, wielding their guns directly at him.

"Come on guys, he's completely helpless with that thing on." Reasoned one of the wardens directing everyone's attention to the white straitjacket; though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of the statement than attempting to convince them to ease up.

 _'Ha. Ha. Ha. As if this could hold me.'_ He laughed demonically, after all, he'd gotten out of worst situations. He could practically see the shivers that ran up each of the guards spines at the sound.

"Let's get moving." The guard from the beginning snapped as they pulled Gotham's most feared villain back towards the light of day.

* * *

Tapping his long, elegant fingers against the inside of the strait jacket while whistling a tune far to pleasant for a place like Arkham, the Joker registered just how extremely bored he was. Craning his head around to glance at the guards standing watch at the tightly locked door the certified psychopath broke into a sardonic grin, laughing as he watched them each shrink away from his penetrating gaze, it seemed they thought even eye contact with him would cause them tremendous pan.

"So" He began turning back to face the white wall before him. "Arkham's finally decided to bestow me with another one of his crotchety old bag of bones?" And he was not surprised when the guards refused to respond. "What took so long this time around? Hmmm?... had to wait for him to ripen to the golden age of 90?"

Just as he was about to really rip into the unnerved guards a voice, the door creaked open and a voice sweeter than any he had ever heard before descended upon the small room. "Sorry to disappoint, but you're aiming a little too high."

 _'Now that's more like it.'_ He thought, however he did not turn around in his chair, would not grant whoever this woman was the satisfaction. If they wanted to speak to him face on, well then they would have to submit to his will and take the seat across from him. "Why don't you take a seat Doctor…?" He trailed off on purpose wanting her to reveal her name without him having to ask. At the same time he nodded his head towards them empty seat in front of him.

Harleen knew exactly what he was doing, trying to establish his authority even before their first session had really begun, but she figured it was best to play along...for now and let him think he had the upper hand. However, she was not prepared for what she saw. In fact, when she had settled into the cold chair she was taken aback by him. And though she felt hot shame for doing such, she found herself absentmindedly admiring him. _'How was it possible that someone so...dangerous be so damn breathtaking'_. Her eyes wondered around his face...taking in his green hair, scars, and devilishly handsome smirk. Harleen shook her head _'What the hell am I thinking?! He's a murderer, a psychopath even, and as manipulative as they come.'_ She reasoned, completely thrown off by her apparent interest in him.

"Like anything you see?" His voice suddenly cut into her daydreaming. Although, it took a beat longer than it normally would have taken him: he found himself struck by the big blue doll eyes that were hidden beneath a pair of black, thick rimmed glasses.

Harleen cleared her throat sharply before saying "You just aren't what I expected."

He chuckled, his eyes dancing at the sight of the blush that surfaced on her face. "And what did you expect? Horns and razor sharp teeth?" He laughed at his own joke.

"Not exactly.' She responded.

"If it's any consolation, beautiful, you aren't quite what I expected."

Suddenly one of the guards butted in "Watch it, freak."

He growled and a shiver clawed its way up Harleen's spine. Up until that point she had completely forgotten anyone else was in the small room. She also made a mental note to remind the guards to mind what they said to the patients.

Rolling his neck, he spoke harshly, in a voice that startled Harleen. "I didn't exactly sign up for a group therapy session Doc."

Stunned by his rapid shift in tone Harleen taunted "You didn't sign up for anything actually." Turning her attention towards the guards she said. "Would you mind terribly if you guys waited in the hallway instead?" Her voice was sugary sweet and the guards quickly devoured each word.

"Of course not Doctor Quinzel… but if you need _anything_ or if he tries anything we'll be right outside." The bigger one answered.

The Joker rolled his eyes, annoyed with how quickly the idiots fell for his pretty little Doctor's false niceties.

"Better?" She asked in a cold voice only after they had heard the click of the door's lock shifting into place.

Ignoring her question his eyes glanced away from her. "So is there a first name to accompany that?"

"There is, however you can address me as Doctor Quinzel." She stated firmly.

He almost giggled, as if that could deter him, nothing stayed hidden for long when it concerned the Joker.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decipher the look on his face, but she couldn't. "And how would you like me to address you?" Harleen asked, her tone indicating that she was about to get serious.

"You...you my dear can call me anything you like." He sighed, revealing his silver grill to her in a full grin, growling softly.

Harleen tried not to falter as she spoke "How about we go with Mr. J?"

 _'I like the sound of that'_. He indicated through a subtle tilt of the head that he approved.

"Mr. J it is." A small smile broke across her face at his intense gaze, however her eyes remained frosty.

* * *

Their first session together continued in a manner similar to the Joker's past sessions. While she attempted to gain any kind of knowledge over him, he began looking for signs to begin manipulating her… and ultimately breaking her. Although, he found himself focusing less on what she was saying to him and more on the way her pouting lips moved around each syllable.

"Mr. J?" She called out, frowning slightly.

His eyes reluctantly slide up her face, away from her damned lips, and towards her icy blue eyes. She huffed, annoyed that he clearly hadn't listened to anything she had previously been saying.

"Hmmm?" He purred.

Trying not to roll her eyes Harleen tried again. "I was simply explaining how I wanted these sessions to go...however I would like to know what you would like to get out of them?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He giggled. "I'd like to make the unconscious conscious ...to at long last acknowledge my latent memories, and hopefully one day be fit to rejoin mainstream society." He off laughing following the false declaration.

"Ha. Ha." She said, unimpressed.

He grinned, relishing in her evident annoyance. "Come on Doc, I had you going there for a second."

"Can we speak seriously please?"

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"I guess you'll just have to search a little for it." She challenged, not having time for his games.

"Where are you from?" He suddenly asked soundly more interested than he had their entire session.

"That's not an appropriate question."

"Come on, beautiful how am I supposed to open up and trust you if you can't do the same for me hmm?" His voice was like lace and diamonds all in one, and Harleen felt herself pulled in deeper with every word he spoke.

"Brooklyn." She tossed out, indulging him.

His grin widened. "Brooklyn's quite far from Gotham Doctor." He said, tilting his head to the left. "Are there not people who worry about the distance?" He said in an almost bored tone.

"Ha." She laughed drily. _'If this was his first attempt at gaining some kind of information to hold over her head, he was going to have to try a lot harder'_.

"And why should I tell you that?"

"Easy Doctor, I'm only trying to be friendly." He declared in the same tone as before.

"Is this how the game started with the other Doctors Mr. J?" Harleen began, leaning in towards him. "You start out the session with an interrogation and act like it's just for fun, just to build trust?" She snapped, putting air citations around the word fun.

This only serves to have him break out into wild laughter. "Doctor if I was trying to have some fun you would know that." He throws out between laughs. "And they say I have issues."

"I think we're done for today." Harleen said, pulling back sharply as her chair grated against the white floors.

His laughter followed her out the metal doors and remained suspended in her consciousness for the rest of the day.

* * *

 _ **Author's note** : Wow, that was harder to write than expected… I'm really nervous about this chapter so don't be afraid to let me know what you think! Also, within the next two chapters or so this story's really going to become deserving of the mature rating so be prepared...Haha! Thanks so much for the support so far!_


	5. Chapter 5: No Restraints

_**Author's note:**_ _Yay chapter 5 is all done! I'm so insanely tired so sorry in advance if there's any major errors….ekkk…. I tried my best. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I really hope you guys like it! Also, a big thanks to everyone who's shown this story interest so far…. Your review, favorites, and follows are what keep me going!_

* * *

Much to his irritation the Joker found he could not help but let his usually focused mind unwittingly drift back towards the first session with his dearest new Doctor. He chose to blame it on the new information he had gained about her through one of the many moles he had inside Arkham Asylum. Perhaps, it was wrong to pry into her personal life, but what else was there for a man to do inside such a dreary place? He couldn't summon any shame for what he'd done, had never been able to fathom the concept of remorse. Although, he had been disappointed to learn that no one seemed to know very much about her, then again, she was about half the age of all the other Doctor's within the walls of Arkham. He had, however, learned that she only began working at the Asylum nearly five months ago. It was apparent that she had a knack for keeping a low profile, and was not close with any of the other Doctors. He also had managed to discover that the blonde beauty had caught the eye of Gotham's most notorious womanizer, Bruce Wayne a few months prior; he had been more than pleased to uncover that the relationship had ended abruptly, and that the two hadn't been seen together since the split. He rolled his eyes at himself, he was not remotely accustomed to the feeling rooted far within his sadistic core. Yes, something certainly would have to be done about his perfect Doctor Quinzel, but for now he would simply bask in the dazzling splendor of her ill-advised attentions.

' _Tick-tock, tick-tock'_ He thought darkly, as he broke out into laughter waiting for his next session to commence.

* * *

The guards had made a point to be exceptionally aggressive that day, he surmised that it was some subconscious attempt to indirectly impress his Doctor. He seemed to be late for their session. Again. He rolled his neck in one fluid moment. Sometimes he felt as though Arkham and his merry band of ground kissers had no intention of actually healing any of their patients. That would explain why they kept him in the constrictive straitjacket for far longer than necessary. He could practically _kill_ to get out of it...no pun intended he giggled sharply, the sound cutting like a dagger in the otherwise silent room.

"Something funny Mr. J?" Her divine voice swept through the modest room.

He mentally scolded himself for not having heard her enter sooner. After all, he should have known immediately, just from her scent alone, as it was far too mouthwatering to have ever belonged to any of the unhygienic lumps stationed on the other side of the door.

"Why, good afternoon beautiful." He growled, smiling far too broadly. Something was definitely up, and Harleen wasn't exactly confident that she wanted to know quite what it was.

"What did you do?" She asked slowly, as if she were speaking to a child.

His grin somehow seemed to crack even wider, obviously delighted that Harleen was playing into his games for the second day in a row. "You know sweets I like what I've _learned_ about you... especially the name: Harleen Quinzel." He grinned, watching as realization dawned on her perfect face: she hadn't told him her first name. "Rework it a bit and you get Harley Quinn." He squirmed in elation, waiting for her to make the next move in his little game.

"Like the clown character Harlequin… I know, I've heard it before." Harleen tried to remain collected, however, she found herself on edge pondering what _other_ information he could have gained about her since their last session.

The Joker sat back for a moment, simply relishing in the look that had clouded over her angelic face. "Why, it's a name that puts a smile on my face." He crackled. "It makes me feel as though there's someone here that I can relate to."

"You say that to all of your Doctors." She challenged, not falling for his blatant attempt at manipulation.

He giggled, enjoying their banter. "Perhaps, I mean it this time… after all you aren't like the other Doctors."

A silence fell on them, and the Joker found himself mesmerized by the subtle way her pearly teeth bite down slightly on the corner of her sultry lips. He found himself imagining the lush veins underneath, pumping around a liquid darker than the blush that had appeared on her virtually colorless cheeks. And he found himself wondering just what those very lips would feel like pressed roughly against his own, how they would feel between his own metallic teeth.

Harleen, for her part, was equally enamored. She couldn't seem to look away from his mischievously gorgeous face. Couldn't stop herself from falling further into the rabbit hole with every word he spoke, admiring the different angles he granted her with every faint tilt of his head. The way his shoulder's tensed angrily under the white straitjacket. ' _What the hell am I thinking?'_ She screamed to herself, before suddenly shattering the pleasant silence that had floated into their compact little expanse. "That's merely because I lack a certain appendage that your previous Doctor's had."

He snorted at this, reluctantly pulling his opaque emerald eyes away from her enchanting lips. "I suppose that could have _something_ to do with it. Arkham's Asylum was starting to resemble one giant boys club." He delighted in watching the spark behind her eyes at his statement.

"Doctor Arkham is the epitome of a misogynist, stubbornly backwards man." She giggled softly, and it sounded like the soft drops of rain on a roof, and the Joker found himself wanting to hear it again and again.

Harleen was irked by how easily she forget herself when she was around him. One minute he was driving her up a wall with annoyance and the next he was someone else completely… and for some odd reason she found both personalities equally debilitating. She had to fight to stay focused around him, and she found herself grateful that Leland had insisted that she stick to basic questions when conducting his sessions.

"So, Mr. J is there anything specific you'd like to begin discussing today?" ' _Anything besides my personal information.'_ She thought bitterly as she abruptly diverted the conversation away from her boss.

' _This could be fun_.' He mused before proceeding in a honey coated voice. "You know...Doctor Quinzel _they_ just didn't understand…" His smile widened as she assumed the ' _they'_ he was referring to was his previous Doctors, however he knew it applied to every single airhead that worked within the Asylum...hell maybe he even was directing it towards everyone on the whole fucking planet. "No one does Doctor." He growled, raising his pale face to look at the small blonde across from him.

"Help me understand Mr. J." she said with her lips opened slightly. Harleen could not tell what he was going for at this point, but she knew she shouldn't trust him, yet it seemed that she would have to play his game in order to gain any kind of information.

"Hmmmm?" He purred, enjoying how easy it was to get her to eat out of his hand.

She did not want to rush him, figuring it was best to approach him like he was a scared animal that would take off at the first sign of trouble. But she found herself silently and desperately begging him to continue in that dark silky voice of his.

Giggling slightly the Joker grinned, "Where to beginning…" he pretended to ponder. "Ahh." He murmured as Harleen leaned closer. "You wanna know how I got these scars?" He could barely contain himself as he felt Harleen's sapphire eyes dance across his pale face, glancing at the dark mark that went down over his right eye and the second located on his forehead.

She didn't dare make a move, let alone breath, silently imploring him to continue. Closing his eyes and rolling his neck in one fluid movement the Joker continued, sighing quietly at how easy it was to trick the young mind of Doctor Quinzel. "My father, was a drinker, and a fiend. And one night, he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself…" He trails off laughing before he can even finish the story.

His laughter continues, but Harleen finds herself propelled out of her chair by some unnameable force, and before either of them really register what she's doing her soft fingertips are gliding over the scar on his forehead, tracing its harsh imprint. Harleen is startled by just how warm his pale skin is under her gentle touch, but she is suddenly pulled out of her musing by a deep growl that surfaces from deep within his concealed chest. Yet she doesn't pull away. Slowly, her fingers brush over to the scar running down his right side, sliding lower onto his face. Eventually, Harleen ignores the scars all together, and simply savors the silky feeling of his skin beneath her own. She watches mesmerized as his tongue darts out to wet his crimson lips. And a whimper, that Harleen barely recognizes as her own escapes her lips, and she brazenly draws her fingertips across his lower lip. Within seconds his grill is gently biting down on that same finger and Harleen feels her breath quicken and considers that she may actually faint.

A deep laugh slides out from behind his mouth and Harleen jumps back in shock, finally realizing what she just did. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself, can you Doctor Quinzel?" He giggles, trying to brush away the unexplainable tightness in his chest.

She ignores him, and pulls away. "You know…" She began, swallowing harshly, while not quite understanding what compels her to speak the next part of her sentence "My Mother was a drinker, not like your Father, but just as rotten I suppose." She turned to glance at the wall behind him. "And my Father, my actual Father, he left us as soon as he got the chance." The Joker watched as her eyes clouded over with all the emotions she refused to let herself feel. And he felt something click then, something deep inside him reaching out for her, and he wanted to murder it, needed to murder it. But instead he started to laugh, taking sick pleasure in how her face crumbled, and just as suddenly as it broke, she hardened back into her dispassionate doctorly persona. It was in that moment that he caught a glimpse at something he'd never seen behind her eyes before. Something dark, something that screamed to be let out, that wanted to hurt the world just as carelessly as it had hurt her.

"This session's over for today." Harleen spoke in a voice that resembled a calm before a storm, and the Joker lost sight of that look behind her eyes.

"Always a pleasure, Doc." He stated after she had shoved her way out of the large metal door, promptly dismissing him.

* * *

Harleen was annoyed to find that she could not stop thinking of her most recent patient.

She couldn't name what had gotten into her, what had compelled her to share some of her darkest secrets with _him_ of all people, but she had. And now it seemed as though she had opened a gate that had been locked for too damn long, however she was going to fight like hell to ignore the feelings rushing towards her, had already managed to do so for eight long years.

Therefore, the best distraction at the moment seemed to be her work. She had more patients than just _him_ she reasoned, but her mind refused to agree with that logic. So, she let her thoughts engulf her, because she seemed to be drawn to him for some inexplicable reason.

If she aimed to get anything more out of him she needed a different approach, one that would not hurt her in the process. The only sizable snag in her current plan was that it would require her to step outside the strict red lines Doctor Leland had drawn around how she should conduct her sessions. But it was necessary, after all playing it safe would only get her so far… eventually he would grow bored of their very vanilla sessions. ' _Excuse that slip up in the last session.'_ She corrected, still seeing stars whenever she allowed her unruly mind to deliberate back to what had occurred earlier that day. No, playing it safe would not cut it if her aim was to gain any kind of leverage over him. But first, she needed him to trust her and though she knew exactly the kind of danger it would cause, she reckoned that the easiest way to get him to trust her was to get him out of the straitjacket. So that was how Harleen found herself, taking several deep breaths in front of Doctor Leland's door before knocking gently and entering the warm room.

"Doctor Quinzel, hello." Joan greeted Harleen cordally.

"Hello, Doctor Leland." Harleen hesitated, but only for a moment. If she was going to get what she wanted she couldn't be her usual meek self. "I'm here because there's something I desperately wanted to discuss."

Joan's tired eyes glanced up from her desk, giving Harleen a quick up and down before sighing and expelling the words "Go on."

"As you know, I just finished my second session with Mr. J early this afternoon."

Leland gave her an odd look at the mention of the Joker's pseudonym. "Yes? And did it not go well?" She said, concern leaking into her usually indifferent voice.

"The opposite actually… I'm very pleased with how things have been progressing." She began, obviously choosing to omit what had occurred behind the metal door. "However, I believe that the sessions could progress at a swifter rate if... " She paused for only a moment. "If Mr. J would be permitted to attend without the straitjacket." Harleen's voice was stern at the end, and she hoped it would convince Doctor Leland of her certainty in the entire notion.

Leland sat unmoving for a second before gruffly running her hand down her face. "So let me get this straight Doctor Quinzel. You want me to grant you permission to have a therapy session with Gotham's worst psychopath, while he has no restraints on?" Leland scoffed.

"He'd still be handcuffed and strapped to the chair." Harleen reasoned.

Joan sat for a long moment evaluating Harleen. "Fine." She barked out, and Harleen broke into a smile that had a surprisingly similar quality to _someone_ else's. "But you have to play it safe Doctor Quinzel, only the questions I approved, and if anything remotely dangerous happens that straitjacket is going right back on and it will not be coming off."

Harleen could barely believe her own ears, but managed to nod a bit too enthusiastically for Leland's liking, but the older women chose to remain quite. "Is that all?" She barked out.

"Yes, thank you so much Joan, I really think this is going to make a world of a difference on him."

Leland simply nodded and watched as the young blonde bounced out of her office. ' _Christ, that girl has some serious guts. Everything will be perfectly fine,_ Joan' Leland thought, in a futile attempt to reassure herself. _'Just as long as those same guts don't end up spilled all over that therapy room.'_ Leland groaned rolling her eyes, and proceeding back to work as usual.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_ _I hope there was enough interaction between the Joker and Harley to keep you guys satisfied for now (lol), trust me I cannot wait for this story to get into the sexy stuff…. I just need to make sure the character's are in the right place for that. Anyway, hope you liked it!_


	6. Chapter 6: Secret, Secret

_**Author's note:** Well guys I'm not really sure where this chapter came from and far warning it is a little dark at the end; I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I feel like it does help to establish some valuable character details. The Joker and Harleen just seem to have some pretty big walls built around them and I want to break those down first. Trust me, this story's really going to start picking up pace in the next few chapters. I've got some really good stuff planned and I hope you all stick around to see how it plays out. :) thanks for all the support, and enjoy!_

* * *

Harleen found herself less interested in the vast majority of her patients than ever before. They were all exceedingly low profile, and Harleen, who had never been bothered by it before, found herself tremendously exasperated by their lack of response to the trivial conversations she tried to engage them in, and though she felt feverish guilt for even thinking such a thing she had to admit that she found them to be more like brain-dead vegetables than actual mentally ill individuals.

To be fair, it was not only her patients that seemed to be treading on her typically well checked patience: no, now even her colleagues, who she had scantily put up with during her small time at Arkham, were utterly and horrendously unbearable. As a result, of her newly found irritation for the majority of humankind in general, Harleen had begun avoiding almost any activity where she wasn't working, often preferring to stay alone in her barren office space. She found it a great place to think, and plain her sessions, that were quickly becoming the best part of her insufferable days.

She was under no illusion that her annoyance had not taken root during _their_ limited sessions together. For she knew it had everything to do with certain a green haired, smiling devil, though she simply refused out of stubbornness to acknowledge what the subtext of this admission meant. And that was how she found herself twisting the truth on her first psychological evaluation. She wasn't completely sure where along the lines her answers began sounding like a well script act, but she had from the start, been aware that she wasn't being completely truthful with her responses. Though she reasoned that the matter wasn't entirely her own fault, for instance any trained physician knew what kind of answers were fitting. _'Leland only said I had to take these psych evaluations...she never said I had to be honest during them.'_ Harleen had convinced herself, though not entirely able to conjure up any justification for why she had to lie in the first place.

The assessment went by quicker than it probably should have, but she was grateful to be out from under the microscope, deciding to use it as the perfect excuse to arrive early to their session room. She relaxed instantly when she observed that his clueless guards had not even managed to make their obnoxious appearance.

The paperwork for letting the Joker have his first session without the straitjacket was still in the process of being signed and approved by Doctor Leland so Harleen decided she would wait, at least until the end of today's session, to reveal anything to him. She spent her short lived moment of solitude scanning over the uncomplicated questions Doctor Leland had insisted she stick to for their sessions. Harleen knew it was a pitiful attempt to hamper any chance for confrontation between the herself and the green-haired madman. _'And to hamper his rehabilitation.'_ Harleen sighed, sometimes it felt like the Doctors at Arkham purposefully tried to keep the patients sick, some disgusting ploy to keep their pockets full. Shaking her head, she went back to inspect her notes, something she'd done for probably the hundredth time that day alone. At two o'clock exactly Harleen was startled by her notes by a loud bang outside of the metal door, accompany promptly by the cold, sharp laugh that could only belong to one man: the Joker.

"You're gonna regret that Clown!" A low-pitched voice hollered, and there was another thundering boom, followed up by the same laughter as before.

"Hurry up, Ben." Another voice hissed. "We gotta get him into the room before Doctor Q comes."

"Shut up, would ya'? This freak needs to be taught a lesson, besides Quinzel's always late anyway." He challenged and there was a cryptic gurgling sound that followed.

"Dammit Ben! At least don't go for the face. Trust me when I say we wouldn't want Doctor Q to find..." He was abruptly cut off by Harleen yanking the heavy door open.

"Wouldn't want me to find out what?!" She demanded, in a voice that even startled herself.

Both the guards stood, staring wide-eyed at the petite Doctor, before both launching into various descriptions that didn't tell Harleen much of anything, however, before she could tell them both to 'shut up' a voice like stone cut through. "Uh oh boys… looks like you've made Harley girl mad." Promptly, breaking into disjointed laughter, that was distorted by the dark liquid that pushed its way from his mouth.

Harleen saw fire and spoke in a savage tone. "Get the hell out of here before I report you both. You'd be fired for this." She said as she knelt down to lift the Joker's freshly bruised head off the ivory colored floor. There was a slight indent on the metal door that she had previously exited out of and it didn't take a genius to surmise just what had occurred.

The guards hesitated, and Harleen was astounded that the smaller one found the courage somewhere deep in his pathetic frame to say: "We can't leave our post Doctor Quinzel… he can't be trusted."

"That's almost funny, coming from the likes of _you_." She snarled and the guards throw up their hands before receding down the stark white hallway. She had almost forgotten the presence of a certain patient of her's until his playful voice broke through her all consuming rage. "Irony really is the way to my heart kitten." And the corners of his dark lips lifted into a grin.

Harleen rolled her dazzling eyes. "I didn't know you even had one of those." And that made him giggle.

"You get me Harls." He sighed, examining her flawless face through swollen eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." She said, brushing away his attempt at flattery. "Now let's get you up."

* * *

Harleen was surprised by how little help he had needed in standing, in fact she had felt rather useless blindly grasping at his straitjacket in some vain mission to get him back on his feet. He had easily rolled off the ground, his lithe body not struggling in the slightest. Silently, they sat in their adjacent chairs and Harleen broke the ethereal silence that had gathered in the small session room.

"So, why'd they do this to you." Her eyes roamed freely over his face, and the Joker drank up her attentions, thinking that her accent was music to his ears.

"Nothing worth mentioning." He stated, and Harleen sensed that that was as far as she would get with the conversation.

The Joker still felt the rampage anger that flowed through his veins when he allowed his mind to recollect exactly what had sent him spiralling, and ultimately, shoving the guard face first into the steely door. "But maybe you can do me a favor sweets?" And her cobalt eyes snapped to his olive gaze. She nodded her head dramatically, and he growled. "Stay away from little old Benny boy." She didn't dare probe him further, fearing the possibility of having his anger boomeranged back at her.

"Alright." She agreed quickly, and he purred like an animal tilting his head to the left. His gaze was too much and Harleen began to squirm. "I just can't believe they did this to you." She throw out, changing the subject slightly, while inspecting his face from across the table.

"Please, Doc, this...this is nothing. I've tried putting rabbits in hats that have had more fight in them."He said with a smile tugging at his crimson lips, waiting for Harleen to react to his quip.

She smiled gently before an angry haze descended over her face."They should have known better, they signed an oath. The things they deserve..." She trailed off, surprised at how dark her thoughts had turned.

"Come here." He murmured after a short silence, and Harleen found herself powerless to disobey. Once she was close enough, without the table separating them she hesitantly paced her dainty hands against the bruises that were surfacing on his cheeks and below his left eye." The Joker let out a tense bout of laughter and purred "why Doctor Quinzel… you just may be more insane than me."

"I wouldn't bet on it." She giggled gently as her hands continued to trace patterns onto his face.

* * *

Eventually, Harleen returned to her metal seat, though she found herself missing the feeling of his soft flesh against her hands.

The Joker, was equally disappointed, and had to repress the ravenous groan that threatened to escape his crimson lips.

"So Mr. J, is there anything in particular you would like to discuss today?" And Harleen watched as the gears shifted in his brilliant mind: as he turned from the amiable man he had been seconds ago, to the devil wearing a clown's mask.

"How about this?" He drawled in a voice that left Harleen shivering for more. "One teeny little secret of mine for one of yours." His legs shook under the table clearly excited about their new game.

"These sessions are for you, not me Mr. J." She challenged.

"Come on, Doctor, humor me." His smile widened, always one to laugh at his own expense. His eyes were cold and Harleen could barely see him anymore.

Yet she still allowed for her current internal battle to devour her. Obviously, he was still playing her, still trying to manipulate her, and she knew she should put an end to it. _'Just say no and call it a day Harleen.'_ She thought, but one look at his purple and blue face and her mind was singing a different tune. Maybe it was simply because she wanted to show him that he could trust her, or a concrete act to prove that not everyone was out to hurt someone else, or maybe it was simply because she was tired of wearing a mask around everyone: completely, sick to the core of keeping it all inside.

"I'd cross out my heart and hope to die if I only had one. Come on beautiful...pretty, pretty please?"

"Fine. But none of this leaves this room."

The Joker purred. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, Harley." He giggles, clearly enjoying the role reversal. "Scout's honor." He corrected, when she did not seem satisfied with his first response. _'How bad could her past possibly be?'_

Harleen rolled her eyes, and he felt the move turn his insides red hot.

"Ladies first." He growled.

For a moment she considers lying, but she was sure he would see right through her. He didn't miss anything. And suddenly she found herself spilling the truth of a secret she never would have told anyone. "My step father, he…" She trailed off for a moment, not sure if she can even finish what she intended to say. Then she's telling him it all.

When she finishes, Harleen feels disconnected from her own story, like she was merely a witness to the younger half of her life. Like maybe she dreamt it all up, in one terrible nightmare, but she knows that isn't the case because every time she was underneath another man she felt it: the sickening terror, the paralyzing helplessness of it all. And whenever the act was finished she would spend hours upon hours scrubbing until her skin bleed, all in some feeble attempt to remove the wickedness that had been done to her body years ago.

The shame seeps onto her face, and she can't possibly fathom looking at him, fears the pity she'll find in his green orbs.

"You know Harls." He begins, and his voice practically begs for her to look at him, and she feels his leg gently nudge against her own from under the table. When she does venture a glance at him, her blue eyes assault his face, feverently searching for the sympathy in his lush eyes, but she finds none. And he speaks coarsely "I think you and I might just be cut from the same cloth."

Harleen shivers. Trying to decide whether she should feel frightened by the comparison or not.

They sit in silence for a long while, both absorbed in their own thoughts. The Joker, for his part, was for the first time in his life stuck. He felt as if there were a hand clenched around his insides, tightening its grip maddeningly whenever he got closer to Doctor Quinzel, and his first instinct was to destroy it, and her. But there was another part of him that understood. Knew that there was nothing that could heal the wound in his dear little Doctor, that she was stuck with it for life. And he could leave her to suffer with it, but something held him back. He wanted Harley to be free of the constraints Harleen had built around her. He knew that the only true way of escape was to become someone else entirely, and the silly, silly little girl before him had no idea how to do just that: she was too busy filling her miserable existence with distractions that would never last. So, he decide, he would let Harley out, whether Harleen liked it or not.

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** Phewww…well that wasn't exactly what I had planned but hope you guys liked it nonetheless. Please don't let Harley's little admission turn you off of the story. It's relevant to the plot I promise, and the limited amount of detail I gave during this chapter is going to be as far as the description goes. Anyhow, every bit of support helps so don't be afraid to favorite, follow, or review the story!_

 **Update:** Hey guys, so it looks like I'm already practically done with chapter 7, so it should be up tomorrow...however, I could probably be convinced to post it sooner if you guys really want to read it ;)


	7. Chapter 7: Down the Rabbit Hole

_**Author's note:** I know, I know, I promised this chapter way sooner but I ended up pushing the actual chapter 7 back and starting from scratch for this one, so there's definitely so typos and errors that I'll have to fix later…. I'm nervous about it and really hope you guys like it! Thanks for all the amazing support so far, you guys make me smile like an idiot. Enjoy. :)_

* * *

Harleen had ended their third session together confessing that she had managed to convince Leland to allow the Joker to attend his next meeting together free of the straitjacket. Although, she had been been ineffective in unscrambling the expression on his stunning face after she delivered the news, and her hazy confusion was not alleviated when he was hauled from the therapy room, without any last word to her. However, she had high hopes that the news coupled with her painful confession had put her on a fast track to gaining his ever elusive trust. In the meantime, Harleen was convinced that she needed to keep herself busy, in an attempt to keep the previous session off her mind. She couldn't allow herself to be pulled back into the darkness that had already eaten up such a large portion of her limited time on Earth. Besides, her childhood trauma had lead to what was promptly becoming one of the best decisions of her life: switching to a psych major in her final year of college. _'I wouldn't have met him if I hadn't'_. She was surprised by this admission, but did not look deeper into it. Instead, she aggressively throw herself into the paperwork that had been piling up on her desk for the last week or so.

Meanwhile, the Joker sat lost in thought deep down in the dark dungeon of Arkham Asylum. Though he was reluctant to admit it, he was vastly enjoying his sessions with Doctor Quinzel…not because they were actually helping him, he scoffed at such a notion. No, but because she was just too much damn _fun_. However, things were about to change drastically because while Harleen was fun, Harley was bound to be far, far more entertaining. Breaking her, would be his final show at Arkham, at least for the time being: he needed to get out, remind everyone just who the King of Gotham city is, remind them just what fear was. The real hitch in his plan was the blonde herself, she was just so convinced that fighting everything she could be was the solution. Luckily, he knew a few things about madness: it was like gravity. And all it really takes is a little push to get the ball rolling. He broke out into manic laughter, smiling like that madman he was at the thought of what was to come.

* * *

Their next session began like the others. Well, excluding the fact that the guards had paused, inquiring multiple times whether Harleen was sure about this. And for what felt like the hundredth time she replied "Yes, yes. I'm his Doctor, I know what's best." and "Of course I know how a panic button works." That retort was attached to a extreme roll of her sky toned eyes. _'I'm a Doctor dammit, not a child._ ' She would have laughed at her little joke if she weren't so exasperated with the dense meathead's before her. There was a sharp knock at the door before it was thrust open by several other guards hastily pushing the Joker into the small space. His brilliant emerald orbs made contact with her steely blue eyes and neither could look away. A small smile graced her pale lips as he sat down and the guards strapped him to the chair, before giving her one last desperate glance before exiting the room, a glance that she was oblivious to.

"How are you feeling today Mr. J?" She asked starting light.

He smirked, and Harleen was wonderstruck. "Liberated Doctor." She could see the laugh stuck in his throat at his own joke as he rolled his shoulders, indicating that he enjoyed the freedom from the tightly bond straitjacket. She was surprised he waited to laugh, and suddenly it occurred to her that he was waiting to see if she got the joke.

Letting out a soft giggle, she spoke. "Well, I suppose that's a step in the right direction."

"And what about you kitten?"

"What about me Mr. J?"

"Do you feel liberated?" He purred, his tongue sliding across his metallic grill in the most delicious way. He knew she would fight him with this. That the obvious answer was no because she still playing shy, acting like she was the one welding all the power, still playing Doctor perfect.

She tilted her head, long blonde hair spraying out across her slender shoulders. "Let's focus on you today, yeah?" She smiled softly and there was a sadness behind her eyes. "After all, it is your turn to give me a secret."

His smile widened drastically.

"And Mr. J. It better be a good one." She challenged, with a raise of her eyebrow.

He growled softly. "Whatever the lady wants..." His eyes connected with hers. "She gets."

"I don't know if I've ever told you this Doc, but I hated my Father." And suddenly the Joker is launched into an animated story. One that Harleen, was not prepared for. It pulled at every emotion she had ever felt, was so poetically tragic that she almost couldn't believe it. It gave her such vast insight to the man before her, or better the man he had been. Explained the source of his infinite humor, of the permanent mask he wore on his perfectly angled face. And Harleen found herself struggling immensely to not see herself within the subtext of the story: she felt as if she were one with him at that moment, with pasts so dissimilar, yet so incredibly alike. Could feel her frozen heart shatter into small icy daggers as she imaged a child just as frightened as she had been all those years ago. Scared of the very people he should have been able to trust the most. Harleen felt silent tears slide down her porcelain cheeks and she could not for the life of her determine whether they were tears for herself or for him. Maybe it was both.

Meanwhile Joker sat back with a smile threatening to spread across his dangerous lip. He admired his work, trying to ignore the sensation that rose in his throat at the sight of her perfect face clouded with tears. Her blue eyes somehow managed to be even more breathtaking when they were glistening and red. He had to admit though, it was some of his best work. To be fair, parts of the story were indeed true, he just couldn't exactly name what parts, everything from back then seemed to get a bit...fuzzy. And he'd always been one for a good story. It wasn't even truly his story to tell anymore: belonged to someone he had erased from existence so long, long ago.

"J…" She started, having no idea where the sentence would end. Her hand blindly reached out for him and it felt as though she were reaching out to the world, her world.

He made an attempt to wave his cuffed hands. "Dust in the wind Harls. Besides, it's your turn." He smiled _that_ smile, and Harleen missed the angry spark behind his sinful eyes.

She wiped at her face, surprised by how quickly he wanted to move on, though she supposed she would have felt the same. _'He doesn't want your pity Harleen… or if he does he'll only use it against you.'_ She reasoned with herself, though she couldn't not look at him differently now: there was something behind the wide smile and manic laugh that no one else saw. She hadn't even managed to see it until now. Eventually she finds herself nodding in agreement, allowing him to steer the conversation. "What do you want to know?"

He pretended to ponder for a long moment, glancing up at the ceiling while smiling to himself. "Hmm." He sighed and glanced back down. "Tell me…just how was it dating Bruce Wayne?"

Harleen gulped, as she observes how his eyes turn several shades darker. "He wasn't all that grand." She started, trying to downplay anything she had felt during their short time together. "He's very serious, almost all the time." That much was true, and she decides to just go with honesty. "It was never going to work. I would have always been the blonde ditz on his arm, always second best, just some powerless wannabe."

 _'So the cat has some scratch after all.'_ The Joker found himself musing. "And since then you haven't seen anyone." He said it more like a statement than a question because he could not stand for her to think he cared, could not even fathom himself why it would bother him if she was with anyone. He convinced himself that it's simply because he doesn't want anyone else playing with his toys…with what was now all his. _'That is until the toy breaks.'_

"Tisk, tisk Mr. J, you already got your secret. Now I get one."

"Harley." He warned, and his hands itch to make contact with something hard… _'or perhaps soft.'_ He thinks, looking at her like a lion would a gazelle.

"Shhh I'm thinking." And her accent slips out, so he allowed her quip to slide like rain off a car window.

He lets out an animalistic growl as he waits. Never having been very patient.

Suddenly Harleen's eyes darkened and the Joker watched as she slide her delicate hand over the tape recorder switching it off.

 _'This should be interesting'_. He muses to himself as he waits for the blonde beauty to continue her line of questions.

"What does it feel like to take someone's life?" She asks in a voice so soft that it sounds more like a breath.

The Joker closes his eyes quickly, and lets out a purring noise. Harleen feels a cold shiver run down her body at the sound, and she knows she should be afraid. Knows this was not the kind of question she iss suppose to be asking the most notorious psychopath of Gotham, but she wants to know. She needs to know.

Suddenly his eyes flash open and she is taken aback by the playfully dark look in his wicked gaze. "Why doctor Quinzel" He speaks in a menacing growl that turns Harleen's insides into hot coals. "That doesn't seem to be the kind of question _they_ want you to be asking me."

Joker made a point of empathizing the they, in a way that made it clear that Harleen did not belong in the same category as the rest of the Arkham's employees. He expected for her to cower under his intense gaze, to take back her words, to stutter on her own tongue and change the subject quickly back to the basic questions that she was instructed to ask every patient; but her answer surprised them both.

"Tell me anyway." She begs in the same breathy tone as before.

A broad smile spreads across the Joker's white face at her responses, and he feels the sensation from the other day clenching inside his chest.

Harleen's breath quicken as she watchs his eyes become an even darker shade and a smile stretches across his sharp cut features.

"Like nothing you've ever felt before Doctor. Like you've got the whole damn world in the palm of your hand" Was all Joker said, knowing that this would only spur her on.

Harleen knew he was trying to encourage her and that, if she were wise she would stop, but she needed to know, there was a deep, dark, raw part of her that ached for him to continue: to tell her everything. She felt a giggle erupt from her throat as she whispered "I want to know…" however Harleen never finished her statement as she realized what she was going to say. Suddenly, she pushed her chair back, letting it scrape against the floor and broke the silence she had created.

Seeing the panic in her eyes the Joker couldn't stop a deep laugh from pushing it's way out of his chest. "It's just you and me Doc, why don't you let her out."

Harleen was confused to who he was referring to but before she had the chance to ask the pesky guards are swarming into the small room.

"Time's up Doctor Q." Says one of them, gesturing towards the clock on the wall. And then they are pulling the madman from the white room, as he laughs crazily.

"What got into him?" Someone murmurs.

The Joker finds himself in hysteria all the way back to his cell. _'Yes Harley definitely was going to be far, far more entertaining than he ever could have imagined.'_

* * *

 _ **Author's note** : Hope you guys liked it, your reviews are what inspired this so thank you all so so much. Chapter 8 is already in the reworks so it should be out very soon. Leave a review if you feel obliged. Also I have one question…. How do you guys feel about smut? (maybe that's a hint...I guess we'll see)._


	8. Chapter 8: Searching for Fear

_**Author's note:** OH MY GOSH I really really love this chapter, I have no idea why but I hope you guys like it too. Sorry it took so long, things are just getting a little busy for me. Thank you so much for all the support you've shown, it means everything to me! Enjoy!_

* * *

Harleen remained motionless in their session room long after the guards had left, and the Joker's unhinged laughter had faded from her foggy consciousness. She was more lost than she had ever been before, it felt as if she were being pulled deep beneath a frigid wave of water and despite how hard she was kicking and struggling to keep her head above water, it was all no use. There was a heavy weight wrenching her small frame back down, and Harleen was no longer sure that she wanted to keep fighting it. There was some kind of calm that had spread over her when she fell below the surface of the wave, that fell over her when she was in his presence, something that screamed for her to see that life was better in its darker currents.

Shaking her blonde head quickly, she pushed herself out of the session room, and headed for her office, deciding to, for the first time ever, leave work early.

* * *

Meanwhile, hours later the Joker still found himself musing over what had occurred during his latest session with Doctor Quinzel. A smile pulled at the corner of his crimson lips as he thought about what she had unknowingly revealed to him. His blood boiled whenever he recalled the panic that had clouded her bright eyes, and again he felt an uncontrollable fit of giggles escape him. The panic was all the more sweeter because it revealed a darker truth about his little Doctor Harleen Quinzel. Oh yes, his laugh became louder. Poor Doctor Quinzel seemed to be more like him than she cared to admit; for underneath that stiff exterior was a part of her just waiting to be freed. And he knew that if there were anyone who could unleash her inner monster it was him. His plan was working flawlessly, and it was all about to get even better.

' _Only a few more minutes until the guard change_.' He acknowledged with glee, while his green eyes twinkled with villainous mischief.

As soon as he caught sight of their grotesque frames trudging reluctantly down the dim hallway, he was practically shaking with eagerness. And luckily, it only took several minutes for one of the wardens to send the other's off in the opposite direction; although they would never admit it, they were beyond relieved to able to evade the laughing lunatic behind bars for even that much longer.

"Boss?" Came an unsure voice, and the Joker could make out the shape pressed hard against the freezing glass barrier. He watched as the man's tiny eyes hurriedly inspected the inky cell, in a hopeless effort to located the man behind the glass.

The Joker lets out a severe laugh, and the guard springs back from the transparent panel. "Thomas, what a surprise...did you bring what I asked for?"

The pudgy guard Thomas nods, inhaling and exhaling obnoxiously in a fruitless struggle to compose his quivering nerves, while immediately, digging in his deep pockets for the two items. "Here you go Boss." He said, producing a collection of keys bound together and a dark purple rose.

The Joker snarls, and the sound ricochets off the solid walls, before growing softer as it dances off down the empty, black hallway. He snatches the items out of the guard's clammy hands. "So reliable Tommy." He spoke softly, shoving his large, cuff hands onto opposite sides of the guard's fleshy face.

Thomas let out wobbly, forced giggle, and the Joker could feel the condensation on his face beneath his hands, slapping his elegant fingers roughly against the man's cheek he pulled away abruptly. "I'm going to need one more teeny little favor Thomas."

"What...whatever ya need Boss." He answered, and his voice shook like a flag in the wind.

"You see the other guards will be back soon, and they're gonna want to know that _someone's_ inside the cuckoo's cope." He gestured his restrained hands around the unlit cell theatrically, and then broke into sadistic laughter.

"I don't think..." He sputtered.

"Don't worry" The Joker began trailing his milky finger down Thomas cheek. "You won't have to do any thinking." And suddenly the Joker jerks Thomas' head hard against the glass, knocking him unconscious in one hard blow. He watches happily as Thomas' hefty structure plummets to the hard floor with one loud _splat_.

"Sweet dreams." He mouths before breaking into laughter and exiting the dim cell.

* * *

When Harleen arrived at Arkham the next morning she ignored the roaming eyes of the guard, not even gracing them with a smile. She effortlessly glided down the halls of Arkham Asylum towards her office, with her head stuck deep within the files she already knew like the back of her own hand. Flicking on the lights to her barren office, Harleen's head snapped up from her reading, as an uneasy feeling sank into her. She could not place her finger on it, but something was drastically off. And as she treaded deeper into the white haven she saw it. Sitting on her desk, the mauve petals contrasting marvelously with the silver desk and pale walls. And she knew without a doubt that there was only person who would have dared to put it there.

* * *

Harleen rushed through every session that day, waiting for the clock's hand to near 2 o'clock. She wasn't sure what she planned to say to him, but knew that she had to confront him. To make it clear that it wasn't right.

And so when the clock finally struck 2 she was already seated in their little piece of heaven, waiting for the guards to bring him in. When the door did jump open to reveal his well built frame Harleen saw the smug smile that pulled at his gorgeous red lips, and her hunch was rapidly confirmed. Once he was seated in the cold chair and the guards had taken up their residence in the hallway, she slide the delicate flower out from beneath her white lab coat. "Care to tell me how this got in my office?"

"I put it there." He said charmingly, while grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"I think the guards would be interested to know you've been out of your cell."

"If you were going to tell, Harley girl, you already would've." He said confidently.

She was annoyed to find that he was right, she had never had she the intention of telling the guards, however she refused to give him the satisfaction. "I didn't ask for this. Why are you doing this?" She hissed.

"Because you're mine now Harley." His leg rested firmly against her's and Harleen felt the heat jumping off of him.

"Don't call me that: that isn't my name. I'm Harleen, and I'm not your anything." She threatened.

And he merely laugh. "Beautiful, you've been Harley since the very moment you met me."

"I'm not like that J, you can't control me. Can't buy me off like everyone else. I'm not anyone's puppet."

"Harley isn't, but Harleen….Harleen's only ever been just that. Some doll on strings, being pulled whatever way society tells her to go." He growls. "And when the chips are down, Harley, when _she_ goes against them, those…those same civilized people you will eat Harleen alive, without a second care for what she did for them."

"Not everyone's like that. Not everyone is out to hurt each other J." And he understood her insinuation.

He laughs a dark laugh, that sounds more like a sob at the end. "I'm not a monster beautiful, I'm just ahead of the curve." And Harleen cannot hear the sound of metal clicking out of place over his hysteria."Don't you want to be ahead of the curve?"

"If you're _not_ the monster then why are you behind the glass?" She tries to make her words cut, but his eyes remain the same, completely unaffected by her harsh words.

"I may be the one behind bars Harls, but you're the one that's actually trapped. And it's a construct of your own making. Doesn't matter where the hell you go Harley…New York, or Gotham, because you're always going to be stuck in your own way."

"Stop." She hisses at him, trying to remain calm. "These sessions are to help _you_ , not some excuse for you to manipulate me."

"Oh yes, sweetheart, do go on… help me. Tell me...tell me how I should feel. Tell me that I should be overcome with shame. Guilty, for all the perversely wrong acts I've committed. _They_ all have." He challenges.

"No." Harleen states firmly. "Because I know you better than them, I know you don't feel remotely sorry." She spat back at him.

The Joker raises his bare brow bone at her and growls. "So you think you fucking understand Doctor? You think you know what makes me tick?" His voice darkens and he waits for her to cower in fear like his precious physicians, but she doesn't react in the slightest.

"I have you figured out pretty well." She answers coldly.

He laughs, and continues, wanting to remind her who's in control. "I see right through you Harley, right to the core, and you're no different from me, you're just as rotten, my dear. We see the world for what it is. We both know this place doesn't follow a moral code, doesn't have order, that there is no justice for injustice." He rambles on.

"Shut up." She smacks her dainty hands against the cold table.

"Seems I've hit a sore spot Doc, allow me to...work it out." He grins. "Let's start with an example: hmm? There's this sweet little girl, and she is _beautiful_ , young, and untouched. But her step Daddy doesn't like that one bit, so one night he decides he's going to change things. And get this Harls, he actually gets away with it."

His eyes flicker as water clouds Harley's pretty blue orbs, and her chin quivers slightly. And he finds himself torn between stopping and going.

"And you know the true injustice of it all? No one bats an eye as the beautiful little girl crumbles before them."

Then suddenly, her hand is connecting with his pale face, in one smooth, sharp movement.

He merely giggles. "Never start with the head Harley. The victim gets all fuzzy. He can't feel the next…"

Harleen jams her heeled foot into his shin, just wanting him to stop talking.

"See?" He challenges, lifting his cold eyes up to look at his Doctor, watching as she tries to calm her erratic breathing.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" She jeers, tears sliding down her flushed cheeks.

It seemed she was forgetting who was in charge during these little sessions, _'So why don't we remind her?_ ' he smiles in an inhuman way, before sliding the chains off his wrists and dropping the key that Thomas had ever so graciously supplied him with the night prior. And before Harleen can process what has happened she finds herself aggressively pinned against the wall behind her, with his white hands around her slender throat. "You know sweetheart...that file that you've been hankering over missed a few key points. It didn't mention how they each begged to be put out of their misery… how every one of them tried to break free of their weak little minds." he growled, tightening his grip on her pale neck. "You should have kept me locked up Doctor Quinzel." he sighed in a soft voice that surprised her.

But instantly his piercing eyes cloud over, and his grip tightens on her throat. "Now, I want to hear _you_ beg Harleen… I want to see the life leave your lovely eyes." He purrs in a dangerous voice. He squeezes harder and waits to see it: that delicious look of fear spread across her fragile features but he sees nothing: it was as if she had nothing to hold onto. No, instead he finds something darker, something he'd only seen behind one other person's eyes. Someone so far in the past that he barely even remembered it. Unexpectedly, his hands drop from her neck, though he remained pressed against her small frame, holding her against the wall as she gasps for air, her body begging for life, doing what her mind had refused to do seconds ago. And laughter appeals from his chest.

Within seconds, his body is ripped away from her's as guards filtered into the room. Harleen slide to the floor and the color returned to her cheeks, contrasting beautifully with the red marks that his hands left imprinted on her thin throat. However, she smiles smugly as his eyes make contact with the panic button in her small hand. And then the tasers are pulsing against his flesh and he shocked madly on the ground, his laughter mixing with groans.

Harleen doesn't hear any of it, only the blood pumping in her ears. Her eyes lazy shift across the floor, trying to find something...anything to focus on, anything but him. And then she sees it, the key he used to escape only a fraction of an inch from her heeled foot. While gasping for air some unknown force compels Harleen to shift her foot, concealing the key from the distracted guards. Hiding, the truth of his escape.

* * *

 _ **Author's note** : I'll try and update as soon as possible but things are about to get pretty crazy in my life as I'm moving into my dorm for school this Friday. Also please, please, please let me know how you felt about this chapter and if there's anything you want me to write about in the upcoming ones. I'm really hesitant to post the next chapter because I plan on including some sexual content… sooooooo ekkk!_


	9. Chapter 9: Prison

_**Author's note** : Well hey guys! I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I feel like a lot of it was necessary! Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows it means the world to me! Hope you enjoy it! _

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking Doctor Quinzel?!" Leland bellowed. "I gave you authorization to have sessions without the straitjacket and you assume releasing him from his cuffs is a good idea?" Leland's chocolate colored eyes flash hotly at the young blonde.

"I'm sorry." Harleen said looking down, forging humiliation. _'Perhaps it really is my fault, I fell right into his trap'_ Harleen thought to herself; for some reason it felt like she was partly to blame, for instance, she was downright morphing the truth, taking the blame for his escape. "I just…I guess I wasn't thinking. He's been so good in his sessions, so open…and I just thought..." she trailed off, not wanting to add more complication to the lie. Despite herself, Harleen knew exactly why she was lying for him, she couldn't bare the thought of being taken off her case. Which was more likely to happen if Leland knew she had opened up to him on a personal level. She couldn't possibly stand not seeing him again. _'Which is absolutely, downright crazy'_. He's dangerous, unpredictable, commanding...powerful: everything she wasn't and she found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. But it seemed that this time, she flew too close to the flame, and now she was burnt, she groaned, raising her hand to gently touch her bruised neck.

Joan sighed, and despite her anger, felt sympathy for the kid. "I get it." She started, after all, every Doctor wanted to see the best in their patients: that was their job. "You want to see the best in him, but Harleen he's not changing. You're just lucky the guards arrived when they did."

Harleen held back an eye roll, the imbeciles guards were claiming all the glory, and she knew the truth would get lost in the haze of dreadful excitement as soon as the story began to spread. _'He stopped himself, they didn't do shit.'_ "So lucky." Harleen lied, not trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

Leland gave her a peculiar look, but didn't question her further. "Protocol requires us to keep him in solitary confinement for the next 48 hours."

"48 hours?" Harleen said slowly, convinced she had heard Doctor Leland incorrectly.

"Yes, do you not think that's enough time?" Leland asked, concern seeping into her motherly voice.

"No, no. It's plenty long." Harleen couldn't quite place the feeling surfacing in her chest, but the tightness made her feel as though they were locking her up too.

"Right…" Leland trailed off momentarily, still failing to understand why Harleen was acting so off. She chose to blame it on the near death experience. "Also Harleen, I would prefer this stay between us...god only knows if Arkham caught wind of this it would be off with both our heads."

And suddenly a childlike giggle escaped from Harleen's pink lips. "Figuratively, right Doc?" She said, sounding more like a certain _someone_ than she cared to admit.

Leland stared at the blonde in obvious confusion, until Harleen's hand ghosted over her purpling neck.

"You should go home...rest a little Harleen, you've been through a very traumatic event." Joan said, ignoring her earlier comment.

Harleen gave her a small smile. "Of course." And then she exited the cozy office.

Leland, for her part, decided it was best not to worry about the fair haired doctor. _'God help that girl. Did nothing faze her?'_ She found herself thinking before amending it. _'She's fine Joan, just in shock. Shock, that's all.'_

* * *

The next two days felt like Harleen's very own prison sentence. When she had gotten home that afternoon, her neck had been unbelievably stiff, though she could not find the motivation to go see a Doctor about it. Instead, she had drawn a warm bath, filling the tub with all kinds of scented bath oils. _'May as well try and relax.'_ she signed before slipping below the water.

And she truly did try to relax, but it seemed her hippocampus would not stop recalling what had happened earlier that day. Harleen honestly wanted to feel fear when her mind drifted back, but instead she felt something different, something undeniably similar to calmness. Perhaps, she was purely being naive, but even in that moment when she had watched his emerald orbs fog over with a darkness she had never known, she had felt in her gut that he wouldn't kill her. It was the same thing she had felt when she lied about his escape, even when the key had laid heavily in her breast pocket as she told Leland it was her own fault.

It was hard to explain, even harder to admit to herself, but Harleen couldn't help but feel as if they were destined in some twisted way to play this game forever. That he wouldn't kill her and she wouldn't leave him. It was completely fucked up, yet she couldn't find the willpower to end things. Yes, he was manipulative and dangerous, however, there was something more behind the killer eyes and homicidal smile, something that Harleen could not help but feel a deep, unearthly connection to. As if they were a key and a lock. The problem was she had yet to decide who was the key and who was the lock in their little game.

Harleen remained in the tub long after the water had turned cold and the bubbles had died off, the soap sinking down into the bottom of the large tub.

The following day and a half was pure hell. She was bored to tears and didn't even have their session together to keep her going. Adding the frustration was her coworkers, who all gave her strange, pitiful looks when they made eye contact in the white, glowing hallways of the Asylum. She could practically see their vile mouths drooling over the newest scandal. Some even had the audacity to approach her and tell her the man deserved much, much worse than a cushy white room for a few days. To which Harleen would flippantly reply, "Perhaps, a single conversation with you would be torture enough for him." Followed by a charming smile and flip of her blonde hair as she walked haughtily past them without even sparing them a last glance.

When she got home her own mind became her worst enemy, having begun replaying the harsh words he had ruthlessly bitten out at her. It hurt, it all hurt. She felt as if her insides were being torn apart by razors. But the truth of it all hurt the most: he had been right. Right about it all and she hated him for it. Hated herself for it more. So Harleen did the only thing she had ever known to do when the reality of life became too much, she wouldn't acknowledge it. She would fake it all, pretended that he was wrong about her, and eventually things would get better, or at least bearable. But she wasn't sure if she could ever make things go back to the way they were. Wasn't sure she wanted to go back to that suffocating silence of not speaking her mind, of being the meek little Doctor Harleen Quinzel, who let other people tell her what was best for her. She fell into a restless sleep that night, turning for hours as each of his words sank in further, crawling under her creamy skin, burning at every surface.

* * *

Sometime, during that long night, after Harleen had found some semblance of sleep, and when the moon permitted its soft white light to shimmer across her serene face, Harleen was startled awake by her own screams, bolting upright in her bed frantically. She had just had the most startling of dreams, something that did not resemble her usual nightmares. As she struggled to catch her breath, she allowed the muddled details of it to float back to consciousness...it had begun with her entering the gloomy walls of Arkham like any other day. After having entered a room that had recently became all too familiar to her, she had been overtaken by an extreme heat; though to her shock, the sensation had almost been pleasant, like she was standing over a blazing fire in the dead of winter but wasn't getting burned at all, simply avoiding the treacherous cold. But, as she had began to relax into the flaming warmth, she felt something even warmer and sticky ooze down her cheek, quickly she had ran to the metal door of the room to check her reflection. Where she saw blood seeping down her face. Screaming, she had desperately glanced down at her hands and found that the blood covered her whole body, and she soon discovered that they we're no longer her's at all, and they were wrapping around her own neck and that's when the laughter began… it had bounced off of every corner of the room. Darkly whispering "Harley wants to play doctor Quinzel, all you have to do…is let her out." Harleen shivered, recalling how it had been at that moment that a childlike laugh had escaped her own throat, propelled by something deep inside of her that she couldn't name. After that, she had woken up screaming.

"Just give in." A giggly voice whispered and Harleen could not located the source, the sound bouncing off every corner of her bedroom. Closing her eyes, Harleen trembled as she tried desperately to block out the voice. But she could still hear the laugher, and she felt a strange heat slither it's way through her body.

Without completely understand what her own mind was doing, she felt her right hand drift over her body, as her eyes shut tightly and her left hand slide past her panties. She let out a soft whimper upon discovering how wet she already was. Without a second thought Harleen began teasing her opening with her fingers, but she found herself imagining them as a very specific someone else's.

She felt herself screaming for her to stop, but it sounded so far away and everything around Harleen felt so incredibly warm. She waited for the discomfort of it to sink in, for the disgust she had always felt to weigh down upon her, but she felt none of it as her mind drifted to lustrous thoughts of him.

Suddenly she felt the edge approaching as soft pants escaped her open mouth, and before she could stop herself his name fell from her lips and she was violently pushed over the edge. She continued to chant his name as her fingers pushed deeper and she came down from that blinding white light of pleasure.

After collecting her breath she opened her eyes in shock.

The giggling voice erupted into full out laughter and Harleen was startled to discover the sound was emerging from her own trembling lips.

"Shut up, shut up!" Harleen found herself chanting but none of it was coming out just the damn childlike laughter.

* * *

Coffee was the first thing Harleen reached for when she got into her office the following morning. She was already dreading the day ahead of her, after the… events of last night. She was classing it as a side effect of sleep deprivation, from having invested too much of her time towards working overtime for a specific someone. Insomnia could make even the sanest people go a little crazy, she had reasoned with herself on the ride over to Arkham Asylum. After just giving in to the bubbling voice last night, Harleen had been thrown into dream, after dream of certain green haired patient of hers. And when Harleen had finally felt the sun brush across her face she crawled her way out of bed, after a lengthy grapple with her sheets, that had managed to twist around her small frame during the night.

She knew she had to speak with him for several reasons. The first being the simplest: purely because his 48 hours of solitary confinement were up this afternoon. The second reason was entirely selfish: she just needed to see him, because despite herself she felt as if her eyes were parched from not seeing him, although she doubted she'd ever be able to forget someone so absolutely perfect. The third, was to remind him that he couldn't get ride of her that easily, that she was braver than all his other Doctors combined. And the fourth reason… _'well that's the darkest of them all._ ' She granted. She needed to make it clear that she was not some pawn in his game, that she would not be torn down by him, that she was not his Harley Quinn. She was Harleen Quinzel dammit, had been her whole life, and no one, not even him would change that. She didn't care how she did it, just as long as she could stop the feeling that had been eating away at her insides since their last session. Just as long as she could kill whatever it was that made her feel like someone else entirely.

And that's how Harleen found herself a few hours later in front of their session door, taking four deep breaths before treading forcefully into the room that held the Joker. Into the room that was slowly killing Harleen Quinzel.

* * *

And there he sat, perfectly still. No jokes today, no side comments to the guards, no laughter. However, Harleen knew that he was aware of her presence because of the subtle twitch of his elegant neck, the way his muscles seemed to ripple under the confinement of the straitjacket. He said nothing though, and Harleen tried desperately not to trip on her own tongue, _'or feet.'_ She mused, as she stumbled on her tall heels. She would have laughed, had it not been for the nerves devouring her insides. "Hello Mr. J." She ventured, sitting on the edge of her metal chair.

He did not glance up right away, refusing to grant her the satisfaction. And Harleen wasn't sure if he wanted her to feel guilty for their sessions being disrupted or not. _'It's not even my fault.'_ She reasoned, fighting the consuming urge to apologize to him. So she did the only thing she could think to do, and bite out "How was solitary confinement?"

She finally saw some reaction on his frozen face, watching in awe as he rolled his emerald eyes in an act that resembled herself, and saw the corner of his dark lips curl up. He snarled and Harleen's insides melted into one trembling mass."Feisty today aren't we Harley?"

"I told you not to call me that." She said, feeling the anger from before consume her.

His eyes shot up at that moment, his smiling blinding Harleen momentarily, and she wanted to scream as her chest betrayed her, pumping erratically.

 _'She just can't seem to learn to behave.'_ He observed, not sure whether the feeling coursing through his veins was maddening rage or liquid desire. Then his eyes trailed over her pretty face, noticing the dark circles that matched her purple neck, and the way that her normally flawless blonde hair was more out of sorts, her ocean eyes clouded over with the glassiness that came with lack of sleep. "That's a silly question." He challenged, redirecting the conversation to her earlier question. "Even by my standards Harley. After all, you already know just what it feels like to be confined."

Harleen gripped the bottom of her chair tightly, resisting the urge to yell at him. Trying to not fall into his plan.

He merely laughed at her lack of response, and Harleen felt as if she had made a far worse decision in not answering him. "How did you sleep Harley girl?"

Harleen studied his flawless face. He couldn't possibly know how awful her night had been, he was merely being polite, or perhaps trying to trick her again. Harleen resisted the urge to roll her light eyes as his expression hinted at nothing out of the ordinary. "I slept fine" she replied harshly, while sliding further into her metal chair.

"Touchy Harley, I thought we could at least play nice today." The Joker sighed with a growl.

"Don't call me that!" Harleen cried out suddenly. "That's not my name."

The Joker instantly threw his head back and let out a strangled laugh. "Harley, Harley, Harley" He said occasionally as he felt her glaring at him.

Without warning, Harleen grabbed him by his hair and pulled his face back to look at her.

"Ahhh" the Joker purred out, not in pain however, but in a knowing way, that made Harleen feel as though he were looking right into her soul.

"We're not playing these games anymore Mr. J" she spoke out in a dark whisper.

"And just when I thought things were about to get really fun." He growled as her grip tightened on his hair.

"Oh, if you think this is fun than you're gonna get a hoot out of what I've planned next." Harleen tossed out.

* * *

 _ **Author's note** : Pheww...well I hope you guys like it. Yes, I know, I know I totally chickened out with writing anything too detailed with Harleen, but honestly I promise I'll actually go for it when the Joker and her can be together like that. I'm going to try and get the next chapter written asap… I have a four hour car ride tomorrow to college so you never know! I'll make sure it's up by at latest Sunday night. Also, any guess as to what Harleen has planned next? Please, please let me know what you thought of this chapter!_

 _ **Update:** so currently I have just moved into my dorms and I don't have internet connection yet so I'll update as soon as possible :((((( sorry guys!_


	10. Chapter 10: Puddin' for Brains

**_Author's note:_** _Well hey guys, I missed you! It's been quite a while and I'm so super sorry about that, I've just been so so busy with starting college and all that. (I definitely signed up for too many clubs...haha). Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and it isn't too choppy or anything, I tried, I really did._

* * *

 _"Ahhh." the Joker purred out, not in pain however, but in a knowing way, that made Harleen feel as though he were looking right into her soul._

 _"We're not playing these games anymore Mr. J" she spoke out in a dark whisper._

 _"And just when I thought things were about to get really fun." He growled as her hand griped tighter on his hair._

 _"Oh, if you think this is fun than you're gonna get a hoot out of what I've planned next." Harleen tossed out._

* * *

The Joker's grin widened, and his wicked green eyes darkened. He already could guess what his pretty little Doctor had in mind. "I always love a good show, my dear." He challenged, pink tongue flicking out against his grill.

Harleen's blue eyes were instantly drawn to his crimson lips, and she felt her cheeks warm like a furnace. She quickly released his green locks, aggravated with her body's visible betrayal.

The Joker's mouth watered as he watched her pale cheeks become flushed, and as he thought of the red hot blood coursing through her now widened blood vessels. He watched as Harleen quickly retreated out of the small room, that had until recently felt like a quick taste of heaven. However, now they knew the truth, that young blonde had willingly signed herself up for regularly scheduled dates with the devil himself.

* * *

It did not take long for Harleen to come back into the glowing white room. And the Joker hadn't bothered to try and hear what she had been feverently whispering to the guards outside the door; he knew exactly the kind of thing she had planned for him, had seen it lurking behind her pretty sapphire eyes. And the words that floated out of her mouth next were confirmation enough.

"Clearly, this method of treatment is not working, and I've decided we need to take a more proactive measure…" Harleen spoke in a firm voice, trying and failing to not be completely awestruck by the the way his powerful shoulders tensed under the constricts of his white straightjacket.

"So you want to hurt me Doctor Quinzel?" he broke off, and laughed darkly. He knew the truth, that despite what the blonde before him wanted to believe, the world was a dark, dark, messy place: where people would hurt other people purely to an attempt to make things even. To make everyone around them just as damaged as themselves. That the whole damn place was one giant breeding ground for chaos and madness.

"I'm your Doctor Mr. J. I only want what's best for you." She reasoned, no longer sure who she was trying to convince of the statement. At one point it was true, she had wanted to help him not only because it would bring her recognition and fame, but because she didn't want anyone, even a murdering madman, to feel the way she had felt her entire life. But now, now things were complicated. He somehow wasn't what she had expected, he didn't want her help- didn't need it. Now, she wanted to convince herself that he was just as human as the rest. To hurt him the way he had managed to hurt her, and it seemed that emotional pain wouldn't do the trick.

"Your first session of ETC is scheduled in the next half hour. I've already contacted the anesthesiologist to let them know."

"Oh goodie." He scoffed. "Could you be a good little girl and mention that I prefer nitrous oxide?" He giggled at his own joke.

Harleen resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead motioned for the guards to bring him to next wing of the Asylum.

 _'She certainly is a hard nutcase to crack.'_ The Joker mused to himself as the guards violently tugged him down the hall.

* * *

The Joker tried not to see red as he waited, strapped down on the medical bed. He did not mind playing their game, in fact he currently lived for it: Arkham Asylum had been far too bland without her. However, the Joker was not a patient man, and the fact that the charming blonde had yet to make an appearance since the therapy room was really starting to make him...hmmm what was the word? _Murderous_. Being in a room full of half wit, foureyes was not helping to quell his rage either. He did, however, relish in the way they scurried around the small space, avoiding eye contact, perhaps convinced that that was the only way to appease the beast. To keep himself sufficiently distracted from the burning fire crackling inside himself, the Joker began to whistle an unfamiliar tune, which only added to the unease of the compact room.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Harleen was attempting to gather all the air she could fit into her lungs, before she finally was able to summon the courage to push open the weight door of electroconvulsive therapy room.

She had always found this section of the hospital immensely disturbing. Her first introduction to the barren place already felt like years ago, despite it only having been a few months prior. Still being a fresh blooded intern, she had been forced into sitting in on one of Doctor Leland's many therapy sessions. Harlene could still recall Leland's words before they had begun the day. _"I just want you to get a feel for how things run around here, Doctor Quinzel."_ And if she were not the women she was, she would have left Arkham Asylum that day and never have come back.

It had been with a schizophrenic patient who had been in a catatonic state; he had been in a staring spell all morning, mimicking the random erratic movements of Leland. The anesthesia had kicked in quickly and Harleen had been fascinated by the way the patient's tireless gaze had clouded over, revealing the whites of his eyes before they fluttered shut. She had been transfixed by the way his stiff muscles had slackened as the drug raced through his thick, hot blood stream. Though, her sentiment towards the process had turned sour the moment her naive eyes had made contact with the part that had been most unsettling to her was just how small they were, how harmless they looked, yet they held so much power: they could heal the dark swirls of sickness within a patient's brain tissue within milliseconds, or they could cause a person to descend into new shades of blackness.

The sound had made her stomach turn, though it was over in seconds. She swore, even now, she could still hear the hum of the machine as the electricity had swam from the wicked apparatus and been carried through the wires, like millions on millions of small, angry wasps, before finally coming in contact with human flesh, and bone, and tissue. Her entire body turned cold whenever she recalled the way the man's face had contorted on the cold, padded table; of how in that moment she felt something greater than the disgust that had initially assaulted her in rough waves. That some cruel, sick part of her took pleasure in seeing how little control someone had in a moment like that. How pain made everything else disappear. She had felt sick because she enjoyed every second of it, felt sick because she was scared of what that could mean. And so, she had promised herself that she would never make another trip to the ECT therapy rooms. And she would have kept her promise, if it weren't for _him_.

Harleen was startled out of her daydreaming by a deep, rich growl that could only belong to one person. "I don't like to be kept waiting Doctor Quinzel." He said in a silky tone, and Harleen could practically feel the temperature of the room drop. All the other nurses in the room cast panicked glances in her direction, silently begging her to not agitate the monster before them. But Harleen refused to let him scare her.

"Sit back and relax Mr. J, this will be over before you know it." She said in a honey sweet voice. Technically, she was allowed to use electroconvulsive therapy at Arkham without needing the patient's consent. And while previously, the fact had annoyed her, she now felt little remorse. _'This is to help him. I'm just trying to help him._ ' Harlene chanted to herself as she watched the anesthesiologist place the mask over his face. She knew it was a lie, but it was easier to understand than the truth.

The Joker said nothing after that. And Harleen was annoyed by the satisfied smirk that had spread across his dark lips beneath the mask. Suddenly, it seemed that she was someone else entirely, consumed by her anger and hurt, even years from that moment she could not recall what had happened between the moment she saw his devilish smirk and the first shock that she had sent blazing through his brain. The only thing that had brought her back from her sleep like state was the way his body convulsed on the table that first time. She felt so incredibly sick watching his limbs shake, felt completely mortified by how little control he had. It suddenly felt as though she did not know the man before her at all, and that scared her the most. And she would have stopped right then if it were not for the giggly voice in her head screaming for her to stop.

'Stop talking!' Harleen almost scream aloud in frustration. And she signaled that she was going to continue. Deep down she was aware of why she was doing this. Some twisted part of her seemed to be connected to him, and maybe if she could cure him she could ride herself of it. _'Why would you want that?'_ A small voice itched at her consciousness.

After the third shock Harleen put the electrodes away, and in a voice that she barely recognized as her own demanded that everyone leave her to talk to the patient when he woke up. The nurses were more than grateful to get away from Gotham's most feared psychopath.

Once alone, the subtle beep of the monitor was the only thing that reminded Harleen that the man before her was indeed human. Pulling up a chair up next to the bed that the Joker was resting on, she watched, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest. It reminded her of waves on a calm day. He looked so utterly untroubled when his striking eyes were concealed behind his pale, pale lids and his cruel lips were not twisted upward in that delicious way. If Harleen were smart, she would have left the moment her mind began to wonder towards such thoughts, but she couldn't find the power to leave him. She was like a moth to a flame, and it seemed that she wanted the flame to consume her alive. On impulse, her small hand traveled across his perfect, and scarred face, enjoying the feeling of his smooth skin beneath her fingers again, reminding her of her second session with him, that already felt like a lifetime ago.

Eventually, Harleen soon found the adrenaline that had been coursing roughly through her veins wearing off, and the exhaustion created the night prior creeping upon her. Glancing around, just to be sure she was truly and completely alone, Harleen allowed herself to lay her head down on the Joker's pale arm and fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

Harleen let out a soft moan as she felt her head being jostled slightly and a very familiar voice whispering an even more familiar name to her. "Harley…Harley, wake up." Suddenly the voice became dark "Wake up Harley or I'll make sure those pretty blue eyes of yours never open again." Jolting upright Harleen saw a wicked smile spread across the Joker's crimson lips. Quickly she glanced down and relaxed when she saw that he was still strap to the table. His eyes sparked with anger when her blue orbs made contact with his viridescent ones.

"You know I hate it when we fight Harley." He growled and Harleen tried not to shrink back as she felt the rage seeping from his hot mouth.

She scoffed. "I beg to differ, in fact I think you get off on it."

Ignoring her, he continued. "Maybe if you listened to me, to her" He said, silently inclining his head towards Harleen's. "You would feel differently. I'm only trying to help you Harley."

"I think you're forgetting that you're the one with the cushy white room, forever stuck in a straight jacket." She challenged.

"Harley, Harley, Harley" He said in a singsong tone. "Physically I may be constrained, but mentally I'm free. Can you honestly tell me it's the same for you?"

Harleen sat in silence for a long moment. He'd ruined her, somewhere along the line that is. Because before she would have said yes: she was free; now though, everything was blurry, it was like she was toeing at an invisible line, suddenly everything she did, all the things that were expected of her felt forced and unnatural, like she was living as someone else entirely. She didn't want to fight him anymore because the more she did, the more she fought with herself. So she ignored his question, and settled for telling him the truth. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore J." She whispered. The Joker let out a primal purr, savoring in the way his name fell from her rosy lips.

Her face broke into a sad smile. "I've never…" She began, embarrassed by what she was about to admit. "I've never felt like this before. I've never felt lost."

His grin widened and Harleen had the sneaking suspicion that they were somehow destined to do this little dance forever, or at least until one of them dropped dead. And Harleen figured at this point she wouldn't be the last one standing.

The Joker clenched his constrained fists hard, he wanted to laugh at her misfortune, to scare the pretty little thing off forever but he couldn't. He hated her, in a deep and raw kind of way. He wasn't suppose to be feeling any of the things that he was. Why did his stomach feel so funny whenever she was in the room? Why was it so hard to watch her fall apart? All the Joker really knew was that he wanted to kill her for making him feel the way he felt. And he would, he would kill her, but first she needed to think he was her only lifeline.

"I can help you beautiful."

Her blue eyes fluttered up to his, but she said nothing.

"I've heard that communication is key Harley." He said in a suddenly playful manner.

"Don't baby me J, I know how relationships work, I know how to express myself." She said, irked by how fast his mood always changed.

The Joker's grin took her breath away as his brain swirled around the word relationship. "Well, I guess frying someone's brains is definitely a good start at expressing yourself." He smiled in a way that Harleen had never before seen, and his eyes seemed to see right through her.

"I didn't fry your brain...after all you seem fine to me." Harleen challenged narrowing her eyes at him.

"Au contraire beautiful, you have managed to singlehandedly turn my mind to pudding."

"I wasn't the only one in the room ya know?" She tried, her accent slipping in.

"All I could see was you before the lights went out."

"I'm sorry." She said softly, allowing her guilt to get the best of her.

"I can tell. You wouldn't still be here if you weren't." He said, in a knowing way.

She studied his flawless face for a long moment. Enjoying the way his emerald eyes contrasted with his ghostly face, and deep red lips. He seemed so open in that very moment, so strangely vast and undiscovered, she felt as if she could see the universe in all its perfect entirety right there in his sinful gaze. Or that simply breathing the same air as him gave her all the power in the world. Then without warning his eyes clouded over, and if looks could truly kill she would have become mummified in that exact moment.

"And Harley?" He growled and Harleen slide further away from him, completely startled by the swift change in his demeanor. "Don't you dare do something like this again."

Harleen was angry that he dared to think he had any right to threaten her, but she knew better than to voice her discontent, instead she chose to respond to his anger in the opposite manner, to treat him the way he treated her. "Okie dokie: I, Harleen Quinzel, solemnly swear to never again try to turn your brain to pudding, _Puddin'_." She held her right hand up in mockery, and bite her lip trying to hold back her giggles at the evident annoyance on his pale face.

"Good girl."

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** I know, that definitely wasn't my best piece of writing, I'm just trying to get back into the swing of it all... I'm sorry if it was hard to follow. Anyhow, I really missed writing these two, I've just been crazy busy with school… and friends…and trying to decide if I have a crush or not... and just life in general. I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless! I'll try and have the next chapter out within the next week or so :)))) Also, I hope this chapter significantly covered how Harleen is really struggling between the person she was and the person she's becoming. I'm trying not to rush her and J's relationship so let me know if you think things are moving too fast, however, that being said I do have a direction for this story still and it's not all sunshine and love. Feel free to let me know what you think so far!_


	11. Chapter 11: Why so Serious?

_**Author's note:**_ _Hello, hello. Long time no see...I've missed this, I've missed you guys, I've missed Harley and J. I don't know, I just randomly got some inspiration and started writing. The direction of the story has changed a little, but trust me it'll be good ;). Sorry it's been soooo freaking long, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. And without further ado…._

* * *

Three days after the incident in the convulsive therapy room Harleen was requested in Doctor Arkham's office. It was a particularly dreary day, where freezing drops of rain tumbled from the grey, lifeless sky coating the cold, ominous exterior of Arkham Asylum. Though the bone chilling water did little to pull Harleen out from the haze she had entered into those short days before. Honestly, she did not know what was wrong with her, or at least she was too stubborn to acknowledge whatever it was that she was feeling. The weekend had done little to clear her mind, in fact she had spent the majority of it stuck in daydreams. Highly inappropriate daydreams, and the more she had tried not to think about a certain someone the _more_ she thought of him. Everytime she had glanced into a mirror that perky laugh would bubble out from somewhere deep in her chest.

She had simply been grateful for the arrival of Monday and the chance to get straight back to work. And currently, Arkham's unexpected request for her presence was intervening with her limited amount of time allocated to Gotham's worst.

Harleen did not bother knocking before entering Arkham's office: wanting to get this meeting out of the way as quickly as possible.

"Doctor Arkham?" She spoke, spotting a slender man hunched over a bookshelf in the corner of the large room.

"Who is it?" The man said, without bothering to look up from the publications before him.

Harleen did not hold back an eyeroll at this. ' _Typical...the man probably heard a female voice and couldn't even bother to look.'_ "Doctor Quinzel." She said, in a particularly bubbly voice that barely concealed her annoyance.

"Ahhh yes... Doctor Quinzel it is such a pleasure to finally meet you." He at last glanced up, before quickly retreated away from the books and sticking out a shaky hand, which Harleen shook hesitantly. He held on long enough to make it uncomfortable and her joints ached to pull out of his grip.

"Actually, we've met before Doctor Arkham." ' _Three times.'_ Harleen thought bitterly.

"Oh excuse me, I apologize." He said in a tone that let Harleen know that he wasn't actually sorry at all. "Actually, you do seem familiar, after all...it would be hard to forget someone so…" Arkham's dull eyes traveled their way up Harleen's body lecherously, and Harleen felt heat rise one her pale cheeks. However, she it did not happen out of embarrassment like it normally would have. Instead she felt rage, pure red hot rage.

Shifting, Harleen sharply cleared her throat and Arkham's eyes were drawn away from her body and back up to her eyes. Smiling sweetly, Harleen asked. "Is there a reason you called me down her Doctor Arkham?" She wasn't sure where her sudden bravery was coming from or where the shy intern had gone, but luckily there was little time to ponder these questions as Arkham began speaking again.

"Uhh yes." He began, not used to being interrupted. "I simply wanted to congratulate you, young lady." He said, with a lewd curve of his lips.

Harleen tried not to roll her eyes at the end of the statement: she was more distracted by the first part at any rate. "Congratulate me? On what?"

"Harleen… I can call you that right?" Arkham pestered.

Harleen simply nodded, wanting him to just get to the point.

"Wonderful." He smiled again. "You can call me Jeremiah if you like."

Harleen clenched her fists. "Alright, Jeremiah." She smiled softly, playing along with his game. "What are you congratulating me on?"

"Well, the Joker of course."

"Oh." Harleen said softly, closing her eyes as the guilt she'd been consumed by deepened.

"Oh? My dear girl? That's all you have to say?" He challenged, unaware that he had struck a cord.

Harleen remained quiet for a long moment. "Thank you...I guess?"

"I'm just glad someone had the balls to do it." He laughed and it was sharp and disjointed.

"What do you mean?"

Arkham's laughing ceased. ' _Damn the girl asked too many questions.'_ "I mean, for the past several years, hell since the Joker's first came to Arkham I've been trying to convince those...those book worms to do something like what you did."

"Well, why didn't _you_ just do it then?" Harleen spoke, her voice harsh. Annoyed that she was being praised for what she had done to J.

Arkham stopped his rambling for a moment. "Well, I…" He began and in that moment Harleen understood. Everyone was scared of the Joker, even Arkham. All the Doctors in this goddamn place did nothing because they were cowards. And she should have been too.

"Thank you Doctor Arkham. I must be going." She said, merely as a means to silence her own thoughts. Swiftly, her heeled feet carried her out of Arkham's office, only to collide with Joan Leland.

"Doctor Quinzel." Joan said softly. "Are you alright?" She said, giving Harleen a perplexed look.

Harleen shook her head. "Wh-what? I mean yes, of course. I'm fine."

"Harleen." She tried again.

"What?" Harleen snapped, trying to get around Leland's small frame.

Leland looked stunned. "You just don't seem like yourself."

"Well, I'm fine." Harleen bite out, annoyed that this was the moment someone decided to pay attention to what she was feeling. Briskly, she pushed past Leland. "If you'll excuse me."

Leland turned and watched as the statuesque blonde briskly walked off down the white halls. Something was not right. She had never heard Harleen respond in such a harsh manner, and there was a strange look hidden inside her bright blue eyes, a look that Leland had only seen on one other person before. ' _She's fine Joan, perfectly fine.'_ Leland reasoned with herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, before turning back to her own office.

* * *

There was panic rising in Harleen's chest. Of course, she had done what she did to J as a power move, but she had hoped it would stay quiet. ' _If Arkham knows how many other people know too?'_ She didn't need this, she didn't. After all, it was easier for her to forget when less people knew. When it was a secret between the two of them and the several other nurses that happened to be in the room at that moment.

Harleen briskly retreated into the nearest restroom, wanting to avoid any prying eyes. Splashing cold water on her face, she barely had the time to glance at herself in the dull mirror before that perky, lethal laugh escaped from her lips. Quickly slapping a hand over her mouth Harleen closed her eyes, breathing softly while counting in her head as a means of gaining some sort of composure. ' _1...2...3…"_ Eventually she removed her hand from her mouth and found that the uncontrollable laughter had ceased. ' _What's happening to me?'_ Harleen thought before glancing back up towards the mirror. She was taken aback by the person she saw: pale eyes wide and manic, beneath her thick glasses. Her pale skin, paler than ever before, contrasted immensely with the dark purple circles that had grown ever more darker since she had met _him._

"I'm fine. Perfectly fine." Harleen tried, repeating the phrase softly towards the images reflecting back at her. She giggled before again covering her quivering lips. The worst part of it all was that, despite the panic, she felt better than she had ever felt before.

* * *

Sometime later Harleen emerged from the bathroom, simply finding motivation in the fact that it was almost time for his session. However, her composure was ruined quickly as she began walking down the more crowded hallways of the Asylum. By now, she had concluded that people were indeed talking, especially since it concerned the Joker, she had assumed though, that the pests wouldn't allow her to hear what they had to say. No, instead she heard each and every one of their fervent whispers when she passed by the other doctors in the hall.

"Did you hear what she did?"

"Poor thing's practically begging for her own murder."

"That Harleen, she's gut some major guts, basically signed her own death warrant."

"Stupid, stupid girl."

And it was only a few weeks prior that Harleen would have believed all of them. Hell, if it were someone else in her place, had she never encountered the man invoking all the fuss, never met that arrogant, psychotic... beautiful, genius of a man, she would have been nodding along with them. Would have been busy feeling sorry for the pathetic young, blonde that had thought she could escape his wrath. However, it was all too confusing now. It felt like she had fallen into an impossibly dark lake, and somehow, the solution was no longer to simply swim back to the surface. No, now the only option was to swim deeper into the blackness. Drowning was the only cure, and it made absolutely no sense whatsoever. ' _I spent my whole goddamn life chasing after what made sense, but god...none of it makes any sense to me now.'_

The truth was, he had ruined her. Completely and utterly destroyed her. Yet she couldn't find the energy to stop it, or even the energy to care. Perhaps, it was because some part of her was holding onto the hope that she had ruined him just as much. And maybe it was simply because she felt more alive than she had in her whole life. Somehow, he made it possible for her to see the sanity within the insanity of it all.

* * *

The clink of the metal door alerted the Joker of Harleen's presence, however, he chose to wait to speak until after her heard the heavy thud of the guards graceless feet leave through the open door. He rolled his neck in relief when he no longer had to hear the unsavory sound of their mouth breathing.

On the other hand, Harleen had meant to allow him the chance to speak first, but once she saw him, the notion disappeared like a puff of warm air in the dead of winter. "Good afternoon J." She said, the obvious delight in her voice making her cringe.

If the Joker had noticed, which she was sure he did because nothing escaped his notice, he chose not to acknowledge it. Instead answering in an equally engaging tone. "Hello beautiful. How are you on this marvelous Monday?"

Harleen's eyebrows scrunched together, a subconscious habit of hers that the Joker had become quite fond of for several reasons. First, she truly was the most stunning thing he had ever laid eyes on... well that and the glorious sight of destruction and blood and human carnage… but that was beside the point. Her little habit gave him so much power: no matter how uninterested she pretended to be during their sessions he knew better, it was an obvious human weakness, and oh did he love exploiting others weakness.

"I'm fine." Harleen said slowly. She was unsure of his current state, she hadn't seen him behaving so cordial in a while. She especially didn't expect this after what she had done to him just three days prior. ' _Maybe it was too much for him.'_ She found herself panicking slightly, at the mere thought of having destroyed any part of his gloriously wicked mind. "How do you feel J?"

"Shockingly enough Harls" He paused, for a moment, letting the play on words sink in with a wicked glint in his olive eyes. "I feel superb." He smiled like a cat.

"About anything in particular?" She tried.

"What can I say Harley? I'm just passionate about life." He saw her confusion at this statement and it only served to please him more.

"J be serious." Harleen could not figure out what had gotten into him, he should be angry, or at least making the conversation more challenging to her. It scared her the most when he got into moods such as this because he was so completely unpredictable.

"I am kitten. _Deadly_." He barely contained the giggle that threatened to erupt from his throat.

"Please Puddin'." She said, hoping that his newly devised nickname would soften his resolve.

He smirked, amused by her use of the name. "I've never been very fond of seriousness."

"Fine, fine: we don't have to be serious, just tell me what's on your mind."

His eyes avoided her gaze for a long moment before returning to her. "You." He kept his face neutral, he could not lie that he was curious to see what her response would be.

"Oh?" she said, trying to conceal her pleasure.

His smile grew lethal.

"Anything specific." She asked, fighting with herself over putting an end to the conversation.

"Just how those lips would feel against mine."

She blushed deeply and it made a soft purring sound emit from his throat. "I'm your Doctor J, ya can't say stuff like that." Despite how pathetic it sounded, Harleen longed to comply with his statement. There was just something so completely magnetic about him. He was everything she wanted to be and hadn't even known until the moment their eyes had made contact in that small white room. His confidence, and ease was something she wanted so badly it made her ache. But she couldn't kiss him. She was his Doctor dammit. Where had her self control gone? She hated how much he affected her.

His velvety growl interrupted her thoughts. "I've always found life to be more fun if you don't over think things Doctor." He's silver grill flashed in the flourescent lights of the room.

"Well, I guess that's the difference between us."

"That isn't a no." The more he thought about, the more he did want to feel her pink lips against thought of all that life, all that blood, everything that was hidden behind the mask that was Harleen Quinzel made his mouth water. He just wanted to taste her. Maybe even just to prove to himself that his imagination was far better than the women before him. "Come on Harls, just one teeny little kiss. We can always do this the hard way."

"What's the hard way?" She breathed.

"I'll untie myself."

She didn't question his ability, she could hear the threat in his smooth voice, but she couldn't stop herself from challenging him. She truly was a masochist. "Okay. If you can untie yourself, you can have one teeny little kiss." She made sure to let the last part of the sentence curl up in a similar way to how he had said it.

The laugh that came from him next made Harleen's insides tingle, and his grin set her on fire.

The Joker, of course, made a scene out of escaping the straightjacket, pretending to struggle. And Harleen couldn't help but giggle over his antics, the man was crazy. And if she were honest with herself, she was more than slightly upset that he wouldn't be able to remove the straightjacket. Suddenly, though she was shocked to see his impossibly pale hand emerge from its confinements.

She wanted to be mad. She should have been mad. Or scared at the very least. He had tricked her, there was no other way he could have gotten out of the jacket on his own. But at that moment she couldn't care less. At that moment, she didn't feel like Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she felt like she was floating. Floating in a pool of desire, drowning in it and she needed his air to breath again.

"Would you look at that?" He said in an over dramatic tone.

"Would you look at that." She said gently, almost as a whisper. Harleen knew she was playing with fire at this point, but she didn't care. She loved the burn.

From there, it all occurred as if they were in slow motion, trapped in their very own moment of time. His hands were gently cradling her neck. And then he was leaning in. And before Harleen could really comprehend how they had gotten to this point her mind was shutting down. She couldn't even remember to breath, let alone form comprehensible thoughts. His lips were so close, getting even closer even. She felt his hot breath against her lips and soon realized that he was not the only one leaning in. ' _Oh my god don't kiss him'_ Was the last thought she had before he growled gently and she threw all caution to the wind. She needed him, needed his lips to be against hers like she needed air to live. But suddenly she realized that his hands were squeezing harshly against her throat: stealing her breath away in a different way. ' _He's going to kill you Harleen'_ Was the only conclusion that floated into her mind, yet she could not find the reason to care. Just as she was about to give up completely the door to the therapy room burst open, loudly banging against the white tiled walls.

Gasping for air, Harleen was startled to see that the Joker was already back in his seat, the straightjacket positioned around his shoulders once more.

"Hello boys." J greeted happily, looking far too smug.

"Shut up Clown." One of the guards spat, forcefully grabbing onto the Joker and ripping him from his chair.

The Joker merely laughed as they began dragging him from the room.

"Wait!" Harleen managed to say, louder than she thought would be possible. "It wasn't his fault!"

"Not his fault!?" Howled the same guard. "He murdered them Doctor Quinzel!"

"Wh-what?" Harleen stuttered out. ' _What the hell is he talking about.'_

"The nurses, Williams and Green!"

Harleen still struggled to understand. ' _This isn't about him getting free?'_

"The ones who helped with your little science experiment last Friday. _He_ killed them." The guard said gruffly, annoyed with Harleen's evident confusion.

"No." She shook her head, blonde locks moving in disbelief. "You didn't J." She said slowly, allowing her pale blue eyes to study his beautiful face. "How do you know it was him?" She questioned.

"Believe me Doctor, only one man is sick enough to have done this. They were murdered in the conversion therapy room, their brains are completely fried."

Harleen's eyes drifted towards the Joker at the last part of the sentence as the realization dawned on her. Suddenly, his mood was explainable. And what a fool she had been, believing that he wouldn't hurt her. "J?" She whimpered.

"How could I have done it Doctor? My hands are tied." He said obviously relishing in the game he was playing. His statement rang as a definite challenge: he wanted her to tell the guards that he had escaped, that he had done it.

"Oh my god." Was all she could managed to whisper under her breath as her hand went to her mouth.

His broke into the breath taking smile and he began laughing. "Come on Harls, why so serious?"

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_ _I hope you guys liked it...sorry about any spelling errors. Yeek I just wanted to get this chapter out because it's been so long...I'll try to get another chapter out this month, college life is just so busy. Trust me though, I've got a lot more story to write...and I might even write a few one shots. Well see, I want to get better at my smut writing (lol) especially because I plan on eventually getting this story there, so may as well improve before I have to write it here. Thank you sooo freaking much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows it means a lot to me, and I just love you you guys so much. Anyway, I hope you liked it, and I'm real excited to get the next chapter out, J and Harley need to actually have that kiss after all! Also who's POV would you like me to start out with next chapter?_


	12. Chapter 12: Let the Games Begin

_**Author's note: Hey guys, long time no see. Sorry about the break in between chapters, I was just having major writers block. Anyhow, I hope this doesn't disappoint. I didn't really have enough time to super edit it so hopefully it's still okay! And as always enjoy!**_

* * *

The sound of the Joker's whistling disturbed the otherwise silent sublevels of Arkham Asylum. It bounced off every white wall, and submerged into the darkness that plagued every corner of the place. ' _It was all just too easy'._ He'd have clapped his hands together if it weren't for the straight jacket tightly bound around him.

Escaping had been easy. And getting the nurses there had been even easier. Having over half the guards on his payroll had helped in the matter, and it amused him to no end that Harleen had played right into his game. ' _Maybe she isn't as smart as she thinks'_. He giggled darkly, choking slightly on the red liquid that had pooled in his mouth.

That was the downside. The _only_ downside. After he had been dragged out of his therapy room and back down the stairs and taken part in the long descent back to his own personal hell, the Joker had taken more than a couple good punches by the few guards that weren't on his payroll. But he'd be sure to get back at them _later._ However, now he had things to plan, ideas that were far too entertaining not to put into motion. ' _It's high time that my little Doctor stop being so naive'._

His already dark laugh came out as deep gurgles as the blood continued to gather in his mouth, and if any guard dared to walk by, which no one did, they would have seen nothing but the flash of his silver grill lite by some phantom source in the unfathomably dark cell.

* * *

' _Oh my god, oh my god. He didn't. He couldn't have'._ Was all Harleen found herself thinking as she sat in her office, staring at a wall blankly. But she knew better. Of course he did it.

After the Joker had been dragged out of the therapy room, Harleen had sank to the ground, feeling just about nothing. She hadn't wanted to think about it, to think that he was capable of doing such a thing. But she was stupid, after all, he was in the asylum for doing acts even more atrocious. She hadn't moved for a long while, and if it weren't for her stupified state she would have been peeved that no one had come to check on her.

Once she had managed to collect her breath she found that her feet were moving on their own, driving her out from the therapy room and straight towards the place she wanted to avoid the most.

She had to see it. Had to see it with her own eyes. Maybe then she'd start feeling something close to remorse.

But when she got there, what she felt was even worse: she wanted to feel repulsed. She wanted to see the pale faces of the nurses before her and cringe away from the sight. But she didn't feel anything but pure fascination and awe at the sight before her. It had almost looked like they were asleep, the only thing that gave away their true state was the lack of chest movement, and the very obvious black chard marks that were ran along each of their temples.

He really had done it.

"Doctor Quinzel, you really shouldn't be in here." Someone said softly, speaking as if she were a child that had just woken from a nightmare.

A white cloth was pulled over the dead men's faces, but Harleen could not stop staring, she had been mesmerized by the stillness of the two bodies before her.

Suddenly she was being pulled from the room. Rough hands trying to sooth her rubbing her back and neck. And she wanted to scream for them to not touch her because their hands reminded her of past violations, they brought back the feeling of fathom hands that plagued her when she was alone. However, she was too far back in her own head to even be able to move her tongue in order to articulate her annoyance and distress.

"Come on Doctor Q. Let's get you out of here. Doctor Leland and Doctor Arkham want to have a word with you."

"It'll be okay Doctor Quinzel, you're safe." Sang the voices of people around her.

But Harleen ignored them, she was too busy trying to imagine just what _they_ had looked like the moment before the life left there eyes.

* * *

Doctor Leland and Doctor Arkham ushered Harleen into an office, speaking soft reassuring words to her. However, Harleen could hardly stand to pay attention, she just wanted everyone to leave her alone with her thoughts.

There was so many things crowding her head; each thought was bouncing around like angry bees inside a hive. She should be feeling more. Guilty at the least. But she felt nothing. In fact, the only thing truly bothering her was that J had outsmarted her. She felt like a fool for allowing him the chance to kiss her in the therapy room. ' _Almost kiss me.'_ She thought with bitter remorse. She was the Doctor, she should have known better, or at east resisted it more. ' _How desperate am I?'_ Harleen thought, rolling her icy eyes as the embarrassment sunk in.

' _What's going to happen now?'_ She thought, as she realized that J was no doubt suffering right now. Locked away in the dungeons of Arkham Asylum. She couldn't stop the desperation that sunk into her chest when she thought of how long they'd be kept apart after this.

"HARLEEN." Harleen jumped as she felt someone shaking her frail shoulders harshly.

"What?" Her voice was far off and weak.

"You should be paying attention honey. I know you're probably still in _shock_." Leland offered her a soft smile.

A childish giggle escaped Harleen's pale lips, but she turned it to a cough when she saw the stunned looks of the faces before her. Laughing wasn't the appropriate responses she reasoned with herself. ' _Well then maybe they should be more careful with their words'_. A voice argued inside her head; her thoughts now swirling around the word _shock_.

"I'm fine." Harleen said, in a pinched voice that she could barely recognize as her own. She hoped Leland and Arkham wouldn't decide now was the time to start asking questions, because now it didn't matter, she could hardly get out of her own head at this point.

"Alright." Leland sighed, lifting her hand off Harleen's shoulder hesitantly. "Now that we've gotten your attention again, we want to discuss matters concerning your safety."

"My safety?" Harleen asked quietly, barely able to keep her mind on the conversation taking place.

"Yes Harleen. You're safety." Leland said, in slow voice, acting as if she were talking to a child. "Now, this is serious. We know the Joker doesn't play games."

Harleen finally broke free of her stumper to scoff.

Leland and Doctor Arkham turned towards Harleen with the same stunned looks on both their aging faces.

"Doesn't play games?" Harleen started out softly. "Doesn't play games?!" Her voice rose to a roar as the two Doctors made eye contact from across the small wooden table. Harleen laughed then, a dark and cynical laugh, and the two Doctor's concern escalated tenfolds.

"Harleen." Leland voiced, while Arkham cleared his throat uncomfortably. Slowly, Joan reached out a tentative hand, attempting to rest it on the blondes slender shoulder once more. "Harleen, calm down."

Both doctor's watched as Harleen's pale blue eyes explode like fireworks with rage. Her voice reached a deadly octave, as she quietly spat out her next words. "You, both of you, know nothing about him. Everything, everything is a game with him."

"We didn't mean to offend you Harleen, obviously he's sick and-"

Harleen cut Leland off sharply. "I'm his Doctor, I know him. And the only way to win, is to play the game." Her voice was cold and both Leland and Arkham recoiled from it, stunned that the quite, young, blonde had so much anger. "We have to warn him."

"Who Harleen?" Leland said, still trying to play the role of peacekeeper. Harleen wanted to strangle her: to strangle both of them. ' _How can they be this stupid?'_

"The only Nurse that he hasn't been killed yet."

"Oh Harleen, I wouldn't worry about him. Obviously, he now knows what's happened, but frankly we're more concerned that the Joker will go after you next." Leland voiced.

Harleen's blue eyes were frosty as they darted between the two faces before her.

Arkham finally decided to contribute to the conversation. "We just feel that since you were the one to make the decision to… direct his treatment in the direction that you went, you are probably the next person he would want to get to."

Harleen's eyes widened, she couldn't believe she was hearing this from _Arkham_ of all people. He had literally just congratulated her on her work.

Leland continued speaking then, watching as rage continued to consumed Harleen's delicate features. "Let's get you home Harleen. We'll sort this out, I've already contacted the police, they'll be surveilling you and your home for the next few days. Or at least until we can ensure that the Joker doesn't have anything else planned."

"You guys can't even prove it was him." Harleen seethed, deciding to stand up for J. "How the hell are you going to ensure he doesn't have anything else planned?"

"We understand you're scared Harleen, but we all know it was him. Even if we can't prove it." Harleen rolled her blue eyes, and tuned Leland out. She wasn't scared, in fact, she had never felt more alive in her entire life. Until this point in her life she had felt like she had been walking through everything, feeling nothing, as if she had been dead until now.

The only problem was that she did feel responsible for that last Nurse. She needed to find out his name: needed to find him. To warn him that J wasn't messing around, and if he escaped once he could easily do it again. She had no doubt in her mind of that.

"Okay." She said softly, interrupting Leland's rambling.

"Okay?" Leland questioned, dark eyebrows scrunching together.

"I think you're right. It's probably best I go home for awhile. I'm actually feeling rather dizzy." Harleen said, playing up the drama so she could get out of that room, and away from the two people before her.

"Oh okay, alright." Leland said. "I'll call the police now, they'll escort you home, and one of them will stay to make sure nothing happens while you're home."

"Thank you." Harleen replied in a civil voice. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just be going to gather my things."

"Of course." Leland and Arkham said at the same time, both with similar tones of sympathy.

* * *

As soon as Harleen reached the hallway, and had escaped the irritating gaze of her two colleagues, she turned quickly down the hall in the direction of the convulsive therapy rooms. Once she reached the door of the room she had used last Friday, she began frantically flipping the pages, looking for the logs of who had been with her on that fateful afternoon. ' _Damn, too many Doctors use this method'._ She thought with repulsion as she continued to flip through pages. She almost jumped with joy when she found the right sheet; scanning quickly she found the name...Mitchell: Austin Mitchell.

Harleen jumped for real when she heard a deep throat clear sound from behind her. Turning, she half expected to see _him_ , but instead she came face to face with the very person she was currently looking for.

"Austin?"

"Doctor Quinzel?" He said in a voice even quieter than her own.

"I was just about to look for you."

"Well here I am." He whispered, and Harleen heard the quiver in his voice. "Harleen what's going on?"

She was surprised that he used her first name, but then again most people around her seemed to forget that she was more than just an intern now. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as she heard voices bouncing off the white walls, coming from the nearby corner.

Grabbing his hand quickly, Harleen spoke. "Come with me." And she was surprised by how easy he made it for her to drag him down the hall towards a janitor's closet.

The door slammed behind them, and they both jumped. "What have they told you?" Harleen whispered, unable to understand why she was scared for people to hear her. Maybe, she was afraid that _he_ would hear her somehow.

"Practically nothing. I just know something happened to Sam and Matthew."

Harleen felt rage build inside her small frame. ' _Of course they hadn't told him anything. Probably just worried that they'll be understaffed'._

"Listen Austin, you have to leave. Is there anywhere you can go? Maybe a friend's house, or something. You just can't stay here."

"Whoa, whoa, Harleen slow down. What happened? What's going on?" Austin asked, his voice raising a little in panic.

"It's nothing...you're just not safe here." Harleen said, looking him in the eyes.

"Can you at least tell me why?" He questioned, his eyes softening as they connected with hers.

"It's not good Austin. Trust me, it's probably best that you know less." ' _Less for him to have to worry about'._ Harleen reasoned with herself.

"They're dead aren't they."

Harleen nodded her head slightly, looking away as she heard his sharp inhale.

"I guess I kind of figured." He said softly.

"Look, that's why you need to get out of here. Arkham and Leland think you're safe, but I know J, and I know he isn't likely to quit once the games started." Harleen warned.

"Okay." She watched as his face searched the wall behind her, obviously trying to digest the information he had just been giving. His carmel eyes came back into contact with hers, and softened. "But what about you?"

"I'll be fine Austin." She said. Her eyes searching for a way to avoid making direct contact with his. No one needed to worry about her, she could take care of herself. Her eyes traveled around his face instead, and she had to admit, he wasn't a bad looking guy. In fact, he was fairly attractive. Too bad he wasn't her type anymore. Didn't have those mysterious green eyes. Or that perfect manic smile.

"Just please be careful Harleen. I know...I know we've never really talked before, but I guess if I die" He laughed awkwardly, and Harleen felt panic rising in her throat as she predicted what he was going to say next. "well, I'd just want you to know that I've kind of had a thing for you since you started working 's why I signed up to help you last Friday."

"Let's not talk like that, you're going to be okay Austin." She said, ignoring his strange confession. She was used to this sort of thing after all. But she knew that most of the attraction normally had to do with a certain apadage of theirs and not anything on an emotional level.

"Look, Harleen, I know I should have just told you this all sooner, that this isn't really the time or place. It's just I've been scared ya know? I know what the guys around here think about you, what you probably have to deal with everyday here because well, you're probably the greatest gift this place has ever gotten. God that sounded pathetic, what I'm trying to say is you're beautiful, but you're also more than that." Harleen watched as Austin's cheeks clouded over with a pink blush, and she felt her insides turn at his words, and not in a pleasant way.

She tried to smile softly, to not make the pity that she felt for the man before her become present on her delicate features. After all, it wasn't his fault that she was hopelessly pining after the most notorious psychopath in Gotham.

"I'm sorry." Austin said, but it was clear that he wanted her to say something, to give him some kind of hope and to convince him that his declaration wasn't as misguided as it appeared to be.

"Listen Austin, you're confused, were both confused and, and scared." Harleen began, trying not to be annoyed by the fact that he didn't seem to be actually hearing her. "But this isn't the time, you've got bigger things to worry about. We both have things to worry about." She placed her hand awkwardly on his shoulder and was surprised with the amount of muscle she felt tense under her touch. "Right now, you just need to worry about getting yourself somewhere safe."

He tried to say something at that moment, but Harleen silenced him by placing a pale finger against his lips. "Shhh. Let's talk about this later." They were both taken aback by her brazen actions, it was so out of character for her, but she had known it would shut him up. She then pulled him into a quick hug, surprising herself yet again. She barely knew the man before her, but she felt at least slightly responsible for what could happen to him next. "It's going to be okay Austin." She smiled up at him, before pulling away.

Austin recovered from his daze after a few moments, and nodded back at her. "Okay."

Quickly she turned and opened the door. "Be safe." She whispered as they both turned down separate hallways.

* * *

 _ **Author's note: Hey guys, what'd ya think? How are we all feeling about Austin? Should J be a little worried that someone might be moving in on his Doctor? ;) lol, I hope you guys enjoyed it, and the next two chapters should be up within the next three or so days! Amazing right? Idk, I must have just gotten inspired. That and I'm already going back to college by the end of this week so I figured I'd left you all hanging long enough. We just need to get to that damn kiss already! Let me know what you think of this chapter! It means a lot :).**_


	13. Chapter 13: Desire and Agony

**_Author's note: Yay another chapter down! I already have chapter 14 in the works soooo it should be up really soon as well. I hope you guys enjoy this one, and don't forget to let me know what you think of the story so far! Is there anything you want more of or just really enjoyed? Let me know and of course, enjoy!_**

* * *

Desire. Red, hot desire filled the Joker.

He didn't sleep much, if ever. And frankly, it just didn't suit him. The world was a much more exciting place when corners began to blur and the mind made justifications that were so unreasonable, that they had to be reasonable. And that's what he felt without sleep. At any rate, his mind already gave him the power to live out every dream and fantasy he could conjure up. Well, almost everything. He used to think he had the whole damn world in the palm of his hand, that everything he could ever want was within arms reach. However, now this notion had changed. And though he hated to admit it, it was all due to his ridged and moral Doctor, Harleen Quinzel.

His stupid, naive, agitating… sexy little Doctor Harley Quinn. He growled and rolled his neck, allowing each vertebrate to crack obnoxiously against the silence that filled his cell, as he twisted his back under the straitjacket.

The Joker's rage was coursing through his veins, ebbing and flowing like poison in a sick, sick man.

It was her fault. Her fault that he felt this way. Her fault that he was experiencing his current… predicament. And he didn't mean the confines of the straight jacket. No, it was her fault that she plagued his rare hours of slumber, that he couldn't seem to shake those piercing blue eyes, or erase that tormenting smile that was framed by those gorgeous dusty lips. Her fault for the desire he now felt. And for the growing discomfort between his shackled legs.

He hated her. Hated her with every ounce of his being because she made him something he would never admit to being: human.

So he would destroy her, slowly so he could watch his work. Watch her implode on herself, and destroy everything that she was. He wanted to simply strangle the life out of those blue orbs, to be done with her once and for all, but something held him back. That would be too easy after all. She wouldn't suffer the way she was currently making him suffer. _'And that just wouldn't be fair, now would it?'_ He thought to himself, and let out a tight laugh, trying to ignore his current state.

Oh, she would pay alright. Only a few hours more and he'd be able to put his plan into action. And it would be glorious.

* * *

Agony. Each moment stuck in the confinements of her cramped apartment was pure agony for Harleen. She was completely bored out of her mind.

She'd taken to drawing shapes against the cold, foggy window in her bedroom in order to distracted her wandering mind. But nothing worked. She was still thinking of him. Always of him.

She'd drawn the same cheshire smile on the window panes at least 30 times that morning alone. Written that stupid name _puddin'_ at least 60 more times than that. Eventually, she let her hand rest flat against the glass, growing cold she had watched as the blood left her already pale hand, flowing backwards through the dark purple and blue veins.

She was going out of her mind, sitting there stuck, being only able to think about him. She didn't care what else was going on in the world. The static noise of the TV in the background could not relax her, or pull herself away from the thoughts that were consuming her.

Everything on the television was pointless. Pointless killing in the city of Gotham, pointless men flying around in a bat costume, saving pointless people from even more pointless villains. Villains that counted for nothing in her mind because they weren't him. No acts that they committed could compare to the things he was capable of doing, the things that he had done.

Harleen glanced back out the window, only to see her own face reflecting back at her from the frosty glass. The manic look in her blue eyes was no longer startling, in fact she would have been more concerned if she didn't see it lurking in the sky color blue of her iris'.

Looking past her own reflection she could barely make out the shape of the cop car lurking across the street with the lights off. The rain was impossible, descending upon the gray city in vast sweeps: if one were to brave the onslaught they would be soaked to the bone in mere moments.

 _'If Leland and Arkham really feared for my well being, they wouldn't have locked me up in my own home.'_ Harleen thought. She literally felt as if she were suffocating. Being watched like an incompetent child. Maybe if she had her work everything would be better. She could study her notes on J, maybe there was something there that she hadn't seen before. Harleen doubted it, since she practically had those damn papers memorized word for word, but she needed an excuse. Need at least one sound reason to feed her growing obsession. The problem was, her notes were locked up in her office at the Asylum. Leland had refused to let her take them with her, worried that it would only serve to make her more anxious about the recent events with the Joker.

Before Harleen had a second to really think over her decision she was ripping through her closet, pulling out clothes and half haphazardly pulling them onto herself. Within only a few minutes she was heading towards the door when she remembered the biggest dilemma… the cops that were watching her like hawks.

"Ughhh." She sighed throwing her fists against the door before swinging back around towards the room and sinking down to the floor. ' _Come on Harleen think…. There has to be some way out of here without them knowing you've left. You're smarter than this'_. She thought desperately. And then it hit her.

Racing back into her depressingly baron kitchen she grabbed a second set of keys of the hook; with the metal molds striking her pale knuckles harshly. However, the slight main did not slow her down. She flew out the door of her apartment, barely managing to lock it behind her before descending into the dim stairwell, taking each step two at a time.

Flinging open the door to the parking garage the white moonlight provide her with a greater light source than the flickering yellow lights above, that made a pitiful attempt to mimic stars that were never visible from the smog and rain that permanently plague the city of Gotham.

Turning the corner Harleen let out an audible sigh when her eyes made contact with the machine before her. She quickly jerked the tarp off of it, while brushing off any dust that had collected during its long lived hibernation. She hadn't ridden her it since her last year of high school. It was the one and only decent thing her father had left her before he disappeared. The ran her ivory hand down the leather seat slowly, before picking up the helmet and placing it one. It took a few tries for the old engine to roar to life, but when it did Harleen relished in the sound, already feeling the endorphin flowing through her.

She had retired the vehicle because it made her reckless. And somewhere along the line of reinventing herself she had decided that Doctor Harleen Quinzel was anywhere but reckless. She had even considered selling the damn thing, however, something had stopped her from doing so. Now, she was grateful. Now, she had the perfect way to avoid the suffocating surveillance of the police officers stationed outside her apartment. No one would be able to tell who she was under the helmet, and it was late enough that the officers watching her every move would just assume she had gone off to bed.

The giggle from earlier escaped Harleen's parted lips as she revved the engine, but this time she didn't mind, in fact, it felt absolutely right. It took all her energy to restrain the growing urge in her to fly out of the garage at full speed, instead she slowing exited, and allowed the now light drizzle of rain to drizzle onto her helmet and collect like diamonds on her black leather jacket. She breathed in the damp night air, and pulled out of the parking garage and off into the direction of Arkham Asylum.

* * *

Getting into Arkham was easy enough. In fact, it was almost maddening how easy they made it to get into such a place, when it seemed almost impossible to get out, even for her now, she sighed. ' _I shouldn't be here._ ' Harleen thought, before rolling her eyes internally at herself. She was obsessed, crazed with doing anything that would bring her closer to him. And that's how she found herself hunched over her crowded office desk, mouth practically watering over the papers she had memorized.

Harleen wasn't sure when her eyes began to feel heavy, but she knew she must have fallen asleep. Only that could explain the world she currently found herself in.

She was in a strangers home, or at least it felt that way. The sunlight was coursing in through the white drapes that hung over the large windows. Beyond the windows was a dazzling blue pool, big enough to be considered eccentric by even the richest of individuals. The yard stretched for miles, with perfectly trimmed grass and even more perfect pink rose bushes lining the blurred edges of the white picket fence that edged the enormous yard. Harleen's eyes were currently transfixed on the flawless indigo sky and the milky white of the cotton ball clouds that littered it. It was a sight that was impossible in the drab city of Gotham.

The jingle of children laughing interrupted Harleen's daze, and her attention was drawn back into the grand house. The walls were white, but not the harsh white that plastered the suffocating walls of Arkham Asylum. No, this white had a soft glow to it, as if everything was laced with the same sunshine that the orange orb outside emitted.

Harleen lightly brushed her hand over the white marble counter that lay before her, and watched as the sunlight caught on the enormous ring positioned on her finger, reflecting rainbow patterns all around the room.

 _'Oh god, why did it feel like the thing weighed a million pounds?_ ' Harleen thought, as she struggled to pick you her hand again.

The diamond was ridiculous and Harleen was filled with an overwhelming desire to rip it off her petite hand. Just as her fingers from her right hand curled around the offending object though, there was a loud bang, as if a door had been flung open. And the laughter that Harleen had heard before was back, louder and getting closer. Harleen flipped around quickly in the large kitchen, light dancing across her vision as it felt like she was spinning for hours before a voice broke through.

"Mommy?" And suddenly she was facing a small child, who couldn't possibly be older than 4. Her blonde ringlets bounced around her shoulders in disarray, but Harleen hardly had time to notice that because she was distracted by the emerald eyes that stared back at her, highlighted by the thick dark lashes. "Mommy?" The child said again reaching up towards Harleen with her impossibly small hand.

And then Harleen heard more laughter as another child, this one older raced around the corner. This one two had the same jaded eyes as the first. Eyes Harleen only associated with one other person. "Mommy she's lying." The older girl said, and her voice fell from her mouth like snowflakes.

Harleen began to speak, although she had little to no idea what she was going to say. But before she could get any words out the older girl's face broke into a magnificent smile, and suddenly Harleen knew because that smile only belonged on one face.

Harleen began backing away from the children, feeling the counter digging into her back almost painfully, and just as she was about to tell the children to leave her alone because the panic rising in her throat was almost too much to conceal, there was a second bang, just like the first.

"Daddy's home!" Both girls screeched in unison before tearing off down the long white hallway once more.

Harleen froze for only a moment, before she began to try to pry the ring off her finger, not wanting to acknowledge what it could possibly mean. It felt as if each time she pulled on it, the band of the ring became even smaller and more impossible to get off her finger.

Harleen was pulled out of her panic when she heard footsteps approaching and when she looked up, she was frightened by what she saw.

It was him, it was the Joker, but without the pale face, without the ruby red lips, and black makeup around his eyes. His hair wasn't green, instead it was jet black. Their eyes locked within moments and Harleen felt a scream hitch in her throat.

'This isn't real Harleen, this isn't real'. She chanted in her own head, now coming to the realization that it had to be a dream because if it wasn't the Joker that she new had didn't exist, the man she was obsessed with was not real.

"Harleen." The man said and smiled, the same smile that the Joker always had. He stepped closer before embracing her, but she remained stiff in his arms. When he pulled back, he kept her in arms reach, looking deep into her eyes he asked. "Are you okay dear?"

And suddenly Harleen was screaming, thrashing her arms. _"No. No. No"_ Was all she could say and then suddenly she was falling backwards. It felt as if she were collapsing in on herself. And then everything went black.

Jumping awake, Harleen barely avoided spilling her now cold coffee all over her cluttered work space. She glanced around the room in panic, before settling back n her chair with a loud sigh. ' _It was a dream.'_ She sighed again in relief. ' _Just a dream.'_

And then there was a loud crash that emulated from the space behind her. Harleen froze for a long moment, trying to gather her breath, to calm her already shocked nerves. And then she slowly turned around in her chair, only to lock eyes with the one person she had hoped it wasn't.

"Hello beautiful."

* * *

 _ **Author's note: Ha ha! I do love a good cliffhanger lol. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was a fun one to write. And now it's time to get to the REAL good stuff :)). I hope you guys liked it, don't be afraid to let me know what you think! You're reviews, follows, and favorites are what keep me going!**_


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